


The Soldier Who Stayed

by Jayie_The_Hufflepuff



Series: The Molly Hooper Companion Chronicles [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock BBC
Genre: Character swap, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Season Rewrite, companion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-14 06:52:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 75
Words: 224,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jayie_The_Hufflepuff/pseuds/Jayie_The_Hufflepuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper is the Woman Who Walked the Earth, and now she's back to traveling with the Doctor. But the Year may have changed her more than expected. Sequel to "The Woman Who Counted." Season 4 rewrite with Molly and Sherlock as the Doctor's companions along with Donna, post Reichenbach Fall for Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Interlude One: Time Crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right after Molly declares her intentions to stay, the TARDIS gets and unexpected visitor.

     She caught the Doctor staring at her with an unreadable expression. The last year had been tough on him, and she knew he always expected people to leave eventually. The fact that she'd decided to stay had clearly gotten to him. She let him have his moment, then turned back to the console with a grin, hopping up and starting up the flight sequence. "Come on, lazy. Time get to get going."

     She shot the Doctor a manic, knowing grin. "Allons-y!"

     He grinned, running up to join her at the console. Before he could touch anything, however, the TARDIS gave a massive shudder, going into wild convulsions, the likes of which Molly had never felt before. She was thrown back roughly against the grated floor, sliding back and hitting the railing. She let out a slight whimper of pain as her shoulder and head were slammed against the railing. Pain shot through her head, searing heat that faded to a dull throbbing ache. She screwed her eyes shut, suppressing a groan.

     After a few moments, the shaking stopped, the TARDIS stilling again. Molly started to open her eyes, then shut them again as harsh light hit her eyes. She waited a few moments, then opened them a slit, waiting for to get used to the light before opening them further.

     There wasn't any actual light as far she could tell now, but the whole room seemed to glow slightly, everything seeming just slightly surreal. She could still see the Doctor as he scrambled to his feet and rushed towards her, crouching beside her with concern. “Molly? Molly, are you alright?” the Time Lord asked anxiously.

     She tried to shake her head to get rid of the light, but a sudden rush of pain convinced her not to try again. Instead, she blinked a few times. The light got a bit better, but she still felt a bit weak and dizzy. “I'm fine,” she said quietly.

     The Doctor frowned, not looking convinced. “Molly, look at me.” She reluctantly met his gaze, and his frown deepened. “Dilated pupils, and I heard that crack when your head hit the railing. I'd say you've got a concussion.”

     Suddenly, a new voice spoke. “Do you feel any dizziness or nausea?” Molly blinked in surprise as an unfamiliar man approached from the console, crouching down beside the Doctor.

     Molly stared at him uncertainly, fighting another wave of dizziness. “Who are you?” she asked.

     The Doctor turned to him, eyes widening in shock. He let out a flat, “What?”

     The other man ignored him and focused on Molly. “Just answer the question. Any dizziness or pain?”

     He reached forward to help Molly up, but the companion flinched back from his touch, eyes narrowed distrustingly. “I'm fine,” she said stiffly. She stood shakily, the Doctor holding her shoulder and helping her up.

     The other man narrowed his eyes at Molly's strange behavior, but he didn't comment on it, standing with the other two. Now that she was standing, Molly could see Sherlock already back on his feet, watching the new man with interest. “Good to know,” the new man said coolly. “Since you're fine, then, would you like to tell me what you're doing on my TARDIS?”

     That helped snap Molly out of her funk slightly. “Your TARDIS?” she repeated, baffled. “Since when? Who are you?”

     The man straightened, squaring his shoulders as he announced, “I am the Doctor.”

     Molly stared at the man in shock, gaping slightly. Reminiscent of the Doctor, all she could manage was a flat, “What?” She turned to the Doctor, her Doctor, in her confusion.

     He hesitated. “Yeah, er, long story.” The Time Lord seemed excited about the new guy for some reason, but he was more concerned about her. “Come on, you need to sit down.” He started to lead her toward a seat, but Molly pulled away.

     “I'm fine, Doctor,” she insisted more firmly. He looked unconvinced, so she compromised by leaning against the railing.

     The other man looked between her and the Doctor with obvious confusion. “He's not the Doctor, I am,” he reminded her.

     The Doctor turned to him, suddenly grinning widely. “Yeah, about that, oh, this is brilliant. I mean, totally wrong, big emergency, universe goes bang in five minutes, but... brilliant!”

     Molly felt a bit irritated with the Time Lord's excitement, and his usual refusal to explain anything. “Doctor? Little explanation would be helpful right now.” The Doctor turned back to her, managing to look a little shame-faced. “Now, why does this guy keep saying he's the Doctor?”

     “Because he is,” the Doctor told her with a grin. Molly blinked uncomprehendingly. “Er, look, remember how I explained about regeneration?”

     She suddenly understood. “So this guy's, what, a future you?”

     “Past, actually,” the Doctor corrected. The other Doctor – past Doctor? – stared at her Doctor with obvious confusion. “My fifth face, five faces ago.”

     From his spot by the console, Sherlock spoke up. “I see your fashion sense has changed since then, Doctor.” He stared at the fifth Doctor with a smirk. “Nice celery.” Molly blinked in surprise. She hadn't realized the green on the man's jacket was a stalk of celery. She hasn't really been paying that much attention to his looks before, but now that she knew he was the Doctor, she took a closer look. He was dressed in a beige coat with a white jumper underneath, with striped trousers and a white hat with a red band. It was quite a different look from the Doctor she knew, and the stick of celery was a bit off, but she could see how it might be something the Doctor would wear.

     The fifth Doctor turned an irritated glare on the detective, while Molly's Doctor frowned, staring at the vegetable in question. “Yeah... brave choice, celery, but fair play to me, not a lot of men can carry off a decorative vegetable.”

     The fifth Doctor looked at his future self, baffled, but before he could comment further, the TARDIS console beeped insistently. The past Doctor looked at it, then turned back to his future self. “Look, I don't have time for this. There's something wrong with my TARDIS, and if I've got to do something about it. You,” he ordered the Doctor, “stay with her, make sure she's alright, while I try to sort this bloody thing out.”

     The Doctor, her Doctor, gave Molly an anxious glance, then turned back to his former self. “Actually, if it's all the same Doctor, I think I'll be more help by the console. Sherlock, take care of Molly.”

     He followed his former self to the console, while Sherlock came to Molly's side, looking carefully into her eyes, critically analyzing her dilated pupils. “The Doctor's right, you really should be resting,” he told her.

     Molly couldn't help but smirk. “Here's a new one, you playing nursemaid,” she joked. “Wasn't it usually me cleaning you up after some fight or another?”

     Sherlock smirked. “Enough distractions, Molly,” he chided. “You're concussed, you need to rest. Just once, listen to the people trying to help you.” He gave her a meaningful look, and she remembered, over a year ago, saying almost the same exact thing to him.

     She sighed. “Alright, fine, but let's see if the Doctor – sorry, Doctors – need help first.”

     The two Time Lords – two versions of the same Time Lord – were working worriedly on the console. “That's a paradox,” the fifth Doctor was saying. “Could blow a hole in the space-time continuum the size of...” he trailed off as his future self swung the monitor around so he could see. “Well, actually, the exact size of... Belgium. That's a bit undramatic, isn't it? Belgium?”

     Molly's Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver out his jacket, offering it to his past self. “Need this?”

     The past Doctor shook his head. “Nah, I'm fine.”

     The current Doctor snorted, putting the screwdriver back in his coat. “Oh no, of course,” he said drily, “you mostly went hands free, didn't you, like 'eh, I'm the Doctor, I can save the universe using a kettle and some string, and look at me, I'm wearing a vegetable'.”

     Even through her discomfort, Molly couldn't suppress a snort of amusement. “With your ego, you think you'd be singing his praises, not putting him down.”

     The Doctor shrugged. “Eh, you've got to be able to poke fun at yourself.”

     The fifth Doctor let out an annoyed huff. Sherlock turned away from Molly to face the two Time Lords. "What you're saying is that two TARDIS, two versions of the same TARDIS, on different points on their timestream, have collided and the ensuing paradox will tear a hole in the fabric of time?"

     Molly's Doctor nodded. "Yeah, basically."

     The past Doctor looked at Sherlock with surprise. "Clever. So who are you, then?"

     Molly answered before Sherlock could, straightening and saying, "I'm Molly Hooper, and he's Sherlock Holmes. We're the Doctor's... er, your companions, in the future."

     The fifth Doctor's eyes narrowed as he took in Molly's posture and outfit. "Interesting," he said quietly. "You're a soldier, aren't you? I can tell." Molly wasn't sure, but she thought she heard a tint of disapproval in his tone. Molly's Doctor shot him a quick, warning glance.

     She tensed, holding her head high. "Of a sort, yes," she told him coolly.

     The Time Lord just nodded slightly. "Right." Molly couldn't help but feel he didn't like her very much. She continued to glare evenly at the past Doctor, but before he could say anything further, a low warning bell sounded from the console. The past Doctor's eyes widened. "The cloister bell!"

     Molly's Doctor looked surprised for a moment, then hurried to the console. "Yep, right on time. That's my cue."

     He started fiddling with dials and levers while the fifth Doctor looked worriedly at the monitor. "In this limit," he said anxiously, "we're gonna generate a black hole strong enough to swallow the entire universe!"

     Molly's Doctor grimaced. "Yeah... that's my fault, actually. I was rebuilding the TARDIS, forgot to put the shields back up. Like Sherlock said, our TARDISes... well, the same TARDIS, different voyages in the same time stream, collided and wurp, there ya go, end of the universe, butterfingers, but, don't worry, I know exactly how this all works out, watch..." He fiddled with a few controls, grinning in full manic Doctor force. "Venting the thermo buffer... Flooring the helmic regulator... And just to finish off, let's fire those zyton crystals."

     The past Doctor tried to pull his future self's hands away from the controls. "You'll blow up the TARDIS!" he hissed.

     Molly's Doctor shrugged. "Only way out," he said.

     Molly raised an eyebrow. "Is that really the best plan, Doctor?"

     He turned to her with the familiar manic grin. "Ah, come on Molly Hooper, give me a little credit." She hesitated, then nodded, grinning back. He turned back to his past self. "I know, because I remembered, Doctor," he said pointedly.

     The other Time Lord's eyes widened, but before he could say anything, the monitor beeped. There was a flash of light, which Molly immediately shut her eyes against, then nothing. The former Doctor looked at the monitor in surprise, a relieved smile slowly appearing on his face. "A supernova and a black hole at the exact same instant..."

     Molly's Doctor grinned proudly. "Explosion cancels out implosion."

     "Matter remains constant."

     "Brilliant," Molly's Doctor said smugly.

     The fifth Doctor smiled, giving the current Doctor a curious glance. "You really are, aren't you? You're really me? That's how you knew to explode the TARDIS, you only knew what to do because I saw you do it."

     Molly's Doctor chuckled. "Wibbly wobbly..."

     "...timey wimey!" they finished together. Molly couldn't help but chuckle at their excitement. Yeah, this guy was definitely the Doctor.

     Suddenly, another alarm sounded from the console. Molly's Doctor bounded over to the console, working quickly on the controls. "Right! TARDISes are separating. Sorry Doctor, time's up, back to long ago." He looked up curiously at his past self. "Where are you now? Nyssa and Tegan? Cybermen and Mara and Time Lords in funny hats and the Master? Oh, he just showed up again, same as ever." Molly stiffened at the mention of the Time Lord, but the Doctor didn't seem too upset about mentioning his deceased friend. He was rather good at covering up his pain.

     The fifth Doctor snorted. "Oh, no, really? Does he still have that rubbish beard?"

     Molly's Doctor chuckled. "No, no beard this time. Well, a wife."

     Suddenly, the past Doctor began to fade. He looked down at himself in surprise. "Oh. I seem to be off." He looked up at his future self with a smile. "What can I say? Thank you. Doctor."

     Molly's Doctor nodded. "Thank you."

     The fifth Doctor grinned. "I'm very welcome," he joked. He disappeared completely, but Molly's Doctor flipped a switch, bringing the past Doctor back.

     He reached to grab his past self's hat, which had been left behind on the console, and handed it to him. He was wearing a huge, warm grin. "You know, I loved being you. Back when I first started at the very beginning, I was always trying to be old and grumpy and important, like you do when you're young. And then I was you. I was all bashing about and playing cricket and my voice going all squeaky when I shouted, I still do that! The voice thing, I got that from you! Oh!" He swung his leg up, putting his foot on the console to show off his converse. "And the trainers! And..." he pulled out his glasses, putting them on quick, "Snap! Cos you know what, Doctor? You were my Doctor."

     The fifth Doctor smiled. "To days to come."

     Molly's Doctor smiled warmly back. "All my love to long ago."

     "Good luck, Doctor, to you and your companions." The fifth Doctor's gaze flicked briefly to Molly, and once again she couldn't shake the feeling he didn't like her. What was that about?

     The fifth Doctor faded again, leaving the Doctor grinning fondly at the place he'd been standing. A few moments later, however, his voice echoed through the TARDIS. "Oh, Doctor? Remember to put your shields up."

     The Doctor turned back to the console, flipping a few switches. Molly grinned. "That was interesting. You were a bit stuffier back then," she teased.

     The Doctor chuckled. "That was nothing, you should have seen me before that." He started working on some controls. "Right, so I'm sending into the Vortex, then you, miss Hooper, need to rest."

     Before Molly could argue, the TARDIS shook, throwing the Doctor off his feet. Luckily, Sherlock and Molly were already holding into the railing and were able to keep their footing. But that wasn't the weird part. The weird part was the cause - what looked like the front of a ship had crashed through the walls of the TARDIS. A loud airhorn blared from the ship. Molly stared up at the ship in shock, lost for words. The Doctor's brow furrowed, and he let out a confused, "What?" He scrambled up to his knees, looking more and more baffled. "What?!?"

     A life preserver ring was tossed from the ship. The Doctor picked it up, turning it over curiously. Everyone froze in shock at what it showed. On the other side, in bold black letters, was the name of the ship. _The Titanic._

     The Doctor stared at it and let out a flat, "What?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so here's that sequel I promised. Much sooner I than I planned on posting it of course, but I think it's clear by this point that I have red restraint when it comes to this story.


	2. Voyage of the Damned: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor, Molly, and Sherlock investigate the ship that's crashed into the TARDIS.

     For a few moments, the Doctor, Sherlock, and Molly stared at the life preserver in silent shock. The front of the ship was still stuck through the walls of the TARDIS, and the foghorn was still blaring.

     In the calmest voice she could manage, Molly said, "Er, Doctor? Please, _please_ tell me we did not just sink the Titanic."

     The Doctor gaped silently at the ship, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he remembered how to move. He scrambled to his feet, hurrying to the console and adjusting a few controls. The TARDIS walls began to repair themselves, pushing the ship out as the wall knit itself back together. When it was done repairing, the Doctor sent the TARDIS into flight, landing a few moments later.

     Molly blinked. "Where'd we land?"

     He turned to her with a grin. "On the ship, of course." Then he frowned again. "Thing is, though, I was on the Titanic years and years back, and I think I would've noticed if we crashed into the TARDIS."

     "Time can be rewritten though, right?" Molly reminded him.

     He shrugged. "Yeah, but if it had I'd be remembering it now."

     She looked at the door with interest. "So, there's another version of you out there?" When he nodded, she asked, "Is it you you, or another one?"

     "My seventh regeneration," he told her.

     Molly chuckled. "I guess today's a day for meeting Doctors then." She stood, ignoring her still-throbbing temple, and headed for the door. "Let's go, then."

     "Molly, you really should be resting," the Doctor reminded her.

     She glared back at him impatiently. "Doctor, I'll be fine," she said a little testily. She didn't know why his efforts to help were rubbing her the wrong way, but she just didn't feel like being fussed over. After a year of toughing it out on a desolated Earth, it just felt weird.

     The Doctor hesitated, then conceded, “Alright fine, but just for a quick look, then back to the TARDIS.” He and Sherlock followed Molly out of the TARDIS, stepping out into a narrow hallway. They walked down it, heading out the door out the end into a grand ballroom. People were milling around everywhere in elegant Edwardian garb, with tables set out and waiters and waitresses rushing here and there. It all seemed pretty normal, but then she noticed what looked like a red-skinned midget with red spikes hurry past. She raised an eyebrow. “I don't know about you,” she said slowly, “but I'm pretty sure there weren't any aliens on the _Titanic_.”

     The Doctor stared after him with bemusement. “Pretty sure you're right.” He headed over to a nearby window, eyebrows shooting up at what he saw. “Right,” was all he said.

     Curious, Sherlock and Molly craned to get a look out the window. Molly felt a rush of surprise when, instead of the sea, she saw the darkness of space outside, with stars gleaming all around. She let out a low whistle. “Well, that explains a bit.”

     Sherlock turned to the Doctor. “So, we're on a spaceship named after the _Titanic_ ” he queried.

     The Doctor nodded. “Some sort of space cruiser modeled after the original, I think.”

     “So we're in the future?” Molly asked.

     The Doctor looked back at the party with interest. “Not sure,” he admitted.

     Suddenly, a voice sounded from a PA announcer overhead, echoing through the ballroom. “ _Attention all passengers. The_ Titanic _is now in orbit above Sol Three, also known as Earth. Population, Human. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Christmas._ ”

     The Doctor grinned. “Ah, so it's Christmas then. Brilliant, always love a good Christmas.”

     Molly was quiet. Last Christmas, she, Sherlock, and Greg had been holed up in a slave headquarters out in New York, where the slaves had held a small, subdued celebration, sitting around and telling stories of Christmases past, giving thanks for the friends and family still alive. It had been a solemn affair, but one of the more hopeful days of that year.

     The Doctor gave the window a final glance, then turned to his companions with a grin. “So, Molly, Sherlock, fancy sneaking into a party?”

     Sherlock looked less than thrilled at the prospect, but Molly shook off her solemn thoughts and grinned. “Sure!” It'd been too long since she'd had fun; a party with the Doctor on a futuristic spaceship, one that would most likely lead to danger and adventure, would definitely be fun.

SCENEBREAK

     They headed back to the TARDIS, determined to be dressed for the occasion. Sherlock grumbled a bit about attending something as mundane as a party, but when Molly reminded him that there'd almost certainly be interesting alien food to sample and machinary to investigate, he conceded. 

     Molly dressed in a pale gold gown almost reminiscent of Belle from “Beauty and the Beast,” with paler gold opera gloves with dark floral markings, which was echoed more palely in the skirts and what little there was of the sleeves. The bodice split apart, making it look like a gold jacket covering a pale gold under-blouse, the color of her gloves. She did her hair up in a bun, clipping on an elegant gold clasp she found on the dresser. She looked in the mirror uncertainly, still a little weak and hazy from her knock to the head. It had been over a year since she'd been in a dress, and after a year of always being armed in some capacity, she felt exposed. She let out a huff, berating herself internally. _Stop it. You're not on the Master's Earth anymore, stop thinking like it._ She just wanted to enjoy the evening.

     She waited a few extra minutes in the wardrobe, waiting for the headache to subside a bit, before coming out. The Doctor was in a full tux and black tie, and even Sherlock had suited up, though he still looked less than thrilled with the whole prospect. “Everyone there is bound to be exceedingly dull,” he complained. “Rich, privileged, probably not an original idea in their heads.”

     Molly rolled her eyes, fighting back a wave of pain. “Sherlock, everyone out there's probably an alien. That should be at least a little bit interesting.”

     The Doctor was checking something on the monitor, brow crinkled slightly. “Looks like it's 2012, so it's probably around the time we left,” he informed them.

     “So I was right,” Molly affirmed, “Everyone out there's gotta be alien, humans don't have space travel like this yet.”

     The Time Lord nodded, then grinned with excitement. “Right. To the party then!” He bounded to the door, followed by Molly and a still-reluctant Sherlock. They headed back out into the ballroom, wandering a bit. Molly stared around at the guests uneasily, a little wary. Old suspicions crept up, but she fought to keep them down. She was at a party, she planned to enjoy herself.

     Eventually, the Doctor found a monitor on the wall, pulling out his sonic and giving it a quick zap. It came to life, showing a ratty-looking man sitting behind a desk, giving the camera an oily grin. “Max Capricorn Cruiseliners,” he announced. “The fastest, the farthest, the best. And I should know because my name is Max.” As he finished, his gold tooth glinted in the light like a cheesy movie effect, then the screen shorted out.

     Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Fascinating,” he said drily. “Sleazy salesman whose wife has obviously made him sleep on the couch for the last week, and technology any Earth TV could surpass.”

     Molly glared wearily at him. “Don't be an ass, Sherlock,” she said testily. “Just enjoy the novelty of being in space for a bit, yeah?”

     The detective glared slightly at Molly, gaze flickering quickly over the companion. “And how's your head then?” he asked pointedly.

     Molly glared, trying to hide her feeling of haziness. “Fine,” she growled.

     The Doctor hadn't been paying attention. He'd headed over to one of the gold angel statues that were scattered around the room. Molly and Sherlock exchanged a final glare, then followed him. On closer inspection, they weren't statues at all, but some sort of metal robot, which lifted its head as the Doctor and his companions approached. When they got closer, the Doctor introduced them. “Evening. Passengers fifty seven, fifty eight, and fifty nine. Terrible memory. Remind me. You would be?”

     There was a _ding_ like from a cash register, then the robot's jaw moved, and it spoke in a pre-recorded male voice. “Information. Heavenly Host supplying tourist information.” Sherlock finally looked interested, his gaze scanning it up and down.

     “Good, so, tell me, because I'm an idiot,” the Doctor rambled on, “where are we from?”

     The angel _dinged_ again and replied, “Information. The Titanic is en route from the planet Sto in the Cassavalian Belt. The purpose of the cruise is to experience primitive cultures.” Molly raised an eyebrow at the “primitive cultures” bit – humans weren't all that far behind this kind of technology.

     “So why name the ship after the _Titanic_?” Molly asked the angel host. “Who thought of that?”

     “Information. It was chosen as the most famous vessel of the planet Earth.”

     Molly raised an eyebrow. “And did anyone bother to check _why_ it was famous?” she asked pointedly.

     “Information. All designations are chosen by Mister Max Capricorn, president of Max – Max – Max –“ The host began to short out, twitching and rising in voice pitch.

   The Doctor frowned, starting to pull out his screwdriver. “Ooo, bit of a glitch,” he noted. Before he could do anything, however, a steward hurried over, shooing the travelers away from the host. “It's all right, sir, we can handle this,” he assured the Doctor. Two more officers came over to help him, switching the host off before working to drag it away. “Software problem, that's all. Leave it with us, sir. Merry Christmas.” He gave a hurried bow, then scurried away, looking nervous.

     Sherlock watched him go with interest. “He's lying,” he said bluntly. “They have no idea what's causing this, his bosses are ordering to cover it up, and since he's nearly been fired once already today, he's got little choice but to do as he's told. More importantly, this has happened before, several times today in fact.”

     Molly didn't even bother to ask how he'd figured this all out – a year had given her complete confidence in the detective's deductions. “Right, so looks like Max Capricorn's Cruiseliners has got something to hide.” She could feel excitement beginning to build. This would probably end up being dangerous, but a different kind of dangerous than the Year, the wild, fun, running-for-your-life-while-breathless-laughing kind of dangerous. She'd missed that.

     The Doctor stared after the officers with interest, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Right.” Then he turned back to his companions. “Well, let's do a bit more mingling, see what we can find out, eh?”

SCENEBREAK

     They wandered through the party, mingling here and there, until they noticed a rich-looking man crash into a waitresses, sending the dishes she was carrying crashing to the ground. Rather than apologize, he sneered at her, snapping, “For Tov's sake, look where you're going. This jacket's a genuine Earth antique.”

     The woman dipped her head hurriedly. “I'm sorry, sir,” she said quietly.

     The man growled, “You'll be sorry when it comes off your wages, sweetheart.” He shook his head with disgust. “Staffed by idiots. No wonder Max Capricorn's going down the drain.” The man turned and stormed off, leaving the woman alone to clean up the mess.

     The Doctor and Molly went to help her, while Sherlock watched after the man with interest. After a few moments, he went off, presumably to get more information. “Here, let us help,” Molly said with a smile. They helped gather up the clutter.

     “Thank you, ma'am,” the woman said, smiling nervously. “I can manage.”

     “Never said you couldn't,” the Doctor said easily. “I'm the Doctor, by the way, and this is Molly Hooper."

     “Astrid, sir,” the waitress said quietly. “Astrid Peth.”

     The Doctor grinned brightly at her, straightening after they finished cleaning up the dishes. “Nice to meet you, Astrid Peth. Merry Christmas.”

     She finally gave him a real smile. “Merry Christmas, sir,” she said warmly.

     “Just Doctor, not sir,” the Time Lord insisted.

     Astrid chuckled, then asked, “You enjoying the cruise?” she asked curiously.

     “Well enough, yeah,” Molly said, though she still had that feeling of wariness. “The ship is gorgeous.”

     Astrid nodding, looking at the two warily. “Yes, the _Titanic_ 's maiden voyage, a great place for a young couple to travel.”

     Molly looked at her with confusion, her eyes widening as she realized what Astrid meant. “Oh no, no no no, not like that,” she said quickly.

     “No, we're not together, no,” the Doctor said almost at the same time. “No, Molly, Sherlock and I have been traveling together a bit now, decided to see the universe. What about you, though? Long way from home, the Planet Sto.”

     Astrid let out a huff, glaring ruefully at the tables behind her. “Doesn't feel that different. I spent three years working at the spaceport diner, traveled all the way here and I'm still waiting on tables.”

     “What, can't you pop out when the ship, er, makes port or whatever?” Molly asked. She wasn't sure what the term was for a spaceship verses a sea ship, but the analogy worked.

     The waitress shook her head. “We're not allowed. They can't afford the insurance.” She sighed, looking longingly at the window. “I just wanted to try it, just once. I used to watch the ships heading out to the stars and I always dreamt of.” Then she looked down, adding hastily, “It sounds daft.” Molly felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. She thought about all the wonderful adventures she'd had on the TARDIS, and she couldn't blame Astrid for wanting more than her mundane life. There was way too much to see to just sit around on one planet.

     The Doctor seemed to agree. “You dreamt of another sky,” he said sympathetically. “New sun, new air, new life. A whole universe teeming with life. Why stand still when there's all that life out there?”

     Astrid looked a bit embarrassed at being read that easily. “So, you travel a lot?” she asked hastily.

     Molly grinned. “Oh yeah, all the time. We go everywhere and anywhere, and more often than not we end up in the worst trouble possible. It's great.”

     “Just for fun,” the Doctor added. “Well, that's the plan. Never quite works, like Molly said.”

     Astrid smiled wistfully. “Must be rich, though.”

     The Doctor shook his head. “Haven't got a penny.” Astrid looked at him curiously, so he explained, “Stowaways, all of us.”

     Astrid's eyes widened. “Kidding?”

     “Nope,” Molly said with a grin. “Like we said, we get in trouble a lot.”

     The waitress looked like she didn't know whether to believe them or not. “I should report you,” she said warily.

     The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Go on then,” he dared her.

     She hesitated a moment, then grinned conspiratorially. “I'll get you lot drinks on the house,” she told them. Astrid turned and hurried off, presumably towards the kitchens.

     Molly smiled, watching her go. “Glad to know there's one decent, non-stuffy person on board,” she joked to the Doctor.

     The Doctor grinned. “Yeah, there's always a person like that around, you just gotta dig a bit, that's all.”

     She shook her head. “Always the optimist, Doctor.”

     The Doctor frowned slightly at her word choice, concern flashing in his eyes. Before Molly could ask him what was wrong, however, they were distracted by the sound of cruel laughter. They turned to see some elegantly-dressed people laughing at a new couple who had entered. They were dark-skinned, rather large, and dressed in gaudy purple, ruffled outfits. They glared resentfully at the people laughing at them, then turned and headed off to sit at their own table. Molly felt a pang of sympathy. She and the Doctor got up and headed off to join them.

     As they got nearer, they could hear the man tell the woman, “Just ignore them.”

     The Doctor looked over at the laughers. “Something's tickled them,” he said lightly.

     The woman glared back at them. “They told us it was fancy dress,” she explained ruefully. “Very funny, I'm sure.”

     “They're just picking on us because we haven't paid,” the man assured the woman. He turned back to the Doctor and Molly. “We won our tickets in a competition.”

     “I had to name the five husbands of Joofie Crystalle in By the Light of the Asteroid,” the woman said proudly. “Did you ever watch By the Light of the Asteroid?”

     The Doctor looked thoughtful. “Is that the one with the twins?” he asked.

     “That's it,” the woman confirmed. “Oh, it's marvelous.”

     “But we're not good enough for that lot,” the man said resentfully. “They think we should be in steerage.”

     The Doctor looked thoughtfully at the laughing snobs, a mischievous light glinting in his eyes. “Well, can't have that, can we?” he said meaningfully. Molly grinned, knowing he was up to something. The Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver discreetly, shielding it from the toffs' view as he turned it on. A few moments' later, the cork on the champagne bottle on the toffs' table popped out, spraying them all with alcohol. Molly grinned triumphantly as they shrieked.

     The couple looked at him with wide eyes. “Did you do that?” the woman asked with wonder.

     The Doctor shrugged, putting his sonic screwdriver back in his jacket. “Maybe.”

     The woman grinned. “We like you,” she said warmly.

     “We do,” the man agreed. He stuck out a hand to shake, first to the Doctor, then to his companion. “I'm Morvin Van Hoff,” he introduced himself. “This is my good woman, Foon.”

     “Hello,” the Doctor said with a grin, “I'm the Doctor, and this is Molly Hooper.”

     “Oh, I'm going to need a Doctor, time I've finished with that buffet,” Foon joked. She offered him something off her plate. “Have a buffalo wing. They must be enormous, these buffalo. So many wings.”

     Before the Doctor could correct her, the voice sounded over the intercom again. “ _Attention please. Shore leave tickets Red Six Seven now activated. Red Six Seven._ ”

     “Red Six Seven. That's us.” Foon turned to the Doctor. “Are you Red Six Seven?”

     The Doctor shrugged. “Might as well be,” he said.

     Morvin and Foon stood, the Doctor and Molly following suit. “Come on, then, “ Morvin said with a grin. “We're going to Earth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, another chapter. I would've posted it last night (more like this morning actually) when I finished it, but I was at an overnight lock-in at my skating rink, and for some reason for that one whole night the internet decided to stop working. -_- But it was fun, it is every year, I got to hang out with all of my skating friends, organizing scavenger hunts for the little kids, playing hide and seek (where our team found an epic hiding place, thank you very much), and I got to hang out with my Whovian skaters friends, one of which is still on the Martha era, so we showed her and a non-Whovian "Blink" and freaked ourselves out. Then we showed the non-Whovian an episode with Jack Harkness, which I think was a big selling point for her. XD Sorry, rambling, but it was fun.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for going on about the dress so long, I don't even like clothes, but I am a very visual writer, and I like knowing what my characters are wearing so I can imagine them going through a scene. I made up most of the dress, but here's a picture of what I meant about the bodice splitting, if it didn't make sense: http://coolspotters.com/clothing/penny-rose-elizabeth-swanns-marriage-dress


	3. Voyage of the Damned: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor, Molly, Sherlock, and Astrid go for a stroll through the empty streets of London.

     As they made their way over to the group departing for Earth, Sherlock re-joined them. “Max Capricorn's business is failing,” he informed them. “They've lost a great deal of their investors, and talk is the board wants to remove Max from the operation. This new ship, and the others they've built, haven't brought in as much revenue as planned. The angel hosts malfunctioning seems to be an inconvenience to them compared to everything else.”

     The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. “Something's definitely going on here,” he noted. “Maybe we'll find some answers on Earth.”

     While Molly explained their impromptu trip to Earth to Sherlock, Astrid came up to the Doctor carrying three glasses on a tray. “I got you those drinks,” she told him.

     The Doctor's eyes lit up, clearly hit by an idea. “And I got you a treat,” he told her. “Come on.” He started to lead her towards the departing group, Molly and Sherlock following. They walked up to the man checking everyone in.

     “Red Six Seven departing shortly,” he announced.

     The Doctor held up the psychic paper for the man to see. “Red Six Seven, party of four,” he told the man. After getting a curt nod and four teleportation bracelets, he led his companions and Astrid to the other departees.

     Astrid tried to pull back, her eyes wide. “I'll get the sack,” she hissed.

     “Brand new sky,” the Doctor reminded her.

     “And what have you got to lose?” Molly prompted, turning back from Sherlock. “A job you hate? If you do, we'll drop you off somewhere you can find a new one. We have our own ship, remember?”

     Astrid hesitated, then grinned, nodding in thanks. As Molly introduced her to Sherlock, the man who gave them the bracelets came over. He was older, with a sort of bookish, schoolteacher look to him. “To repeat, I am Mister Copper, the ship's historian,” he introduced himself “and I shall be taking you to old London town in the country of UK, ruled over by good King Wenceslas.” Molly blinked in surprise, and Sherlock let out a snicker. The historian continued, “Now, human beings worship the great god Santa, a creature with fearsome claws, and his wife Mary. And every Christmas Eve, the people of UK go to war with the country of Turkey. They then eat the Turkey people for Christmas dinner like savages.” Molly was barely holding back laughter at this point, and Sherlock had rolled his eyes and was now completely ignoring the man's words, instead focusing on his appearance and whatever else he could use to deduce him.

     The Doctor stared at the man, brow furrowed in bafflement. He raised his hand slightly, saying, “Excuse me. Sorry, sorry, but, er, where did you get all this from?”

     The man drew himself up proudly. “Well, I have a first class degree in Earthonomics.” Sherlock started to open his mouth, but Molly elbowed him sharply. After a bit of a glaring contest, Sherlock conceded, keeping silent. Copper, oblivious, went to activate their teleportation bracelets. “Now, stand by.”

     “And me! And me!” They looked over to see the spiky red midget from before rushing over, holding up his pass. “Red Six Seven.”

     Molly raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you're coming to Earth too?” The human-looking aliens were fine, but a little red man with spikes would stick out like a sore thumb. Humans weren't supposed to know about aliens yet.

     The Doctor seemed to share her concerns. “But, er, hold on, hold on.” He turned to the alien. “What was your name?”

     “Bannakaffalatta,” the alien supplied in a high-pitched tone.

     “Okay, Bannakaffalatta.” He turned to Mr. Copper, reminding him, “But it's Christmas Eve down there. Late night shopping, tons of people. He's like a talking conker. No offence, but you'll cause a riot because the streets are going to be packed with shoppers and parties and - “

     Without warning, the bracelets were activated, and they were transported into the middle of London. The Doctor trailed off as they realized that the street was completely deserted. The Time Lord blinked in surprise and let out a little, “Oh.”

     Molly stiffened, hand going automatically for her hip, where she'd kept a gun during the Year. She'd never had to use it on a person, but it was good for hunting, as they often went days or weeks between slave headquarters and they'd had to eat somehow. She knew the Doctor hated guns, and she hoped she never had to use it on anyone, but it gave her a sense of comfort, and it was great for intimidation. She hated how exposed she felt without it, in a ball gown that was gorgeous but totally useless for running.

     Sherlock too had stiffened, and was glancing around furtively, eyes dark with suspicion. “Something's wrong,” he said in a low voice. “The street's been uninhabited all night, there should be massive crowds.”

     Molly hated the initial, small, insecure, fearful thought that popped into her head. _What if the Master's back?_

     Mr. Copper didn't seem to see anything wrong. He handed all of the departees cards, telling them, “Now, spending money. I have a credit card in Earth currency if you want to by trinkets, or stockings, or the local delicacy, which is known as beef. But don't stray too far, it could be dangerous. Any day now they start boxing.”

     The companion looked around anxiously, growing more uneasy about the whole thing. “It's Christmas night, the street should be filled. There should be at least _someone_ here. Something's definitely wrong.”

     “But it's beautiful,” Astrid breathed. She was staring around the street with eyes wide with wonder, a wide, warm smile on her face.

     The Doctor looked at her with surprise, smiling, “Really? Do you think so? It's just a street. The pyramids are beautiful, and New Zealand.”

     “But it's a different planet,” the waitress said, letting out a thrilled giggle. “I'm standing on a different planet! There's concrete and shops. Alien shops. Real alien shops!” She looked up at the dark, cloudy sky overhead. “Look, no stars in the sky. And it smells. It stinks! Oh, this is amazing. Thank you!”

     Molly looked at the thrilled alien with surprise. She looked around uncertainly, taking in the street around her. It was just like any other street, with houses lined up, houses and sidewalks and streetlamps, with everything lightly dusted with snow. It was just an ordinary London street. Desolate of people, abandoned, potentially dangerous. But where she saw danger, Astrid saw beauty. She felt a rush of surprise. Had she really grown so cynical that she couldn't see beauty in the universe? Had she really changed that much?

     The Doctor looked at Astrid with a smile. “Yeah? Come on then, let's have a look.” He started off, the companions and Astrid following him.

     They came upon a newstand, where the only person on the whole street stood behind the counter. He was an older man, white-haired with a beard and a red hat. Molly felt a pang of suspicion, but the man seemed friendly enough. The Doctor approached him, smiling amiably. “Hello, there. Sorry, obvious question, but where's everybody gone?”

     The man chuckled. “Oh ho, scared!” he told the Time Lord.

     “Right. Yes. Scared of what?”

     The man looked at him curiously. “Where've you been living? London at Christmas? Not safe, is it.”

     Molly looked at him anxiously. “What do you mean by not safe?” She'd known something was wrong.

     “Well, it's them, up above,” he said, pointing up at the sky. He went to turn on the tv set on his stand, turning to a chanel showing a huge, saucer-shaped spaceship hung suspended over the street. “Look, Christmas before last we had that big bloody spaceship, everyone standing on a roof.” Molly blinked. She'd been working at the morgue that day, but she remembered seeing the TV reports after. The man switched to a different chanel, the screen now displaying a star-shaped spaceship hanging in the sky. Molly recognized that one as well. “And then last year, that Christmas Star electrocuting all over the place, draining the Thames. It's been like this ever since. No one stays around London for Christmas. So, everybody's scarpered. Gone to the country. All except me and Her Majesty.”

     As if to confirm his words, the announcer spoke from the TV. “ _Her Majesty the Queen has confirmed that she'll be staying in Buckingham Palace throughout the festive season to show the people of London, and the world, that there's nothing to fear._ ”

     The man looked at the TV with a smile. “God bless her. We stand vigil.”

     The Doctor grinned. “Well, between you and me, I think her Majesty's got it right. Far as I know, this year, nothing to worry about -”

     He was cut off again as their bracelets activated, sending them all back to the _Titanic._ Molly blinked in surprise as she realized where she now was, feeling a pang of sympathy for the man they'd been talking to. They'd vanished right in front of him, just as they were assuring him that there wouldn't be any aliens that year.

     The Doctor glared irritably at Copper. “I was in mid-sentence,” he complained.

     Copper seemed worried about something. He hurried to collect all the teleportation bracelets as two officers approached. One of them told the group, “Apologies, ladies and gentlemen, and Bannakaffalatta. We seem to have suffered a slight power fluctuation. If you'd like to return to the festivities. And on behalf of Max Capricorn Cruiseliners, free drinks will be provided.”

     The guests went off back to the party, grumbling a bit about the visit being cut short. The only one who seemed happy was Astrid. “That was the best,” she sighed happily. “The best!”

     The Doctor ignored her, staring after the officer with a furrowed brow. He followed the man, asking in a low tone, “What sort of power fluctuation?”

SCENEBREAK

     The Doctor and companions couldn't get a straight answer out of the officer, so they went off to see where else they could get information. It was the Doctor who spotted the picture frame displaying a video of Max Capricorn. He hurried over without explanation, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and his glasses, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. Molly and Sherlock followed him silently, shielding him from the view of other guests.

     After a bit of sonicing on the frame, he was able to pull it back like a door, revealing the mechanics behind. He fiddled with them a bit until the frame-screen displayed a sonar radar around the ship instead. Molly froze as she noticed three little dots on the radar that she was pretty sure weren't meant to be there, getting closer and closer to the ship. Even worse was the warning flashing in red letters at the bottom of the screen - “ _Shields Off-Line._ ”

     The three turned as one to look out the nearest window. Molly blanched at what she saw – three flaming meteors heading straight for the ship.

     The Doctor whirled back toward the frame, hurried fiddling with a few controls. “What're you doing?” Molly asked, glancing back worriedly at the window.

     “Turning it into an intercom,” the Doctor explained distractedly. He finished, turning it on, then speaking in urgently. “Is this the bridge? I need to talk to the Captain. You've got a meteoroid storm coming in west zero by north 2.”

     A voice, presumably that of the captain, snapped from the other end, “ _Who is this?_ ”

     “Never mind that,” the Doctor said impatiently, “your shields are down. Check your scanners, Captain. You've got meteoroids coming in and now shielding.”

     The captain ignored his words, growling, “You have no authorisation. You will clear the comms at once.”

     The Doctor grew even more impatient with the captain's stuffiness. “Yeah? Just look starboard!” Molly saw a steward heading over, so she tensed, standing defensively in front of the Doctor. What she missed was the steward heading from the other direction who grabbed the Doctor from behind. She whirled around to face him, but was grabbed by the first steward, who pinned her arms behind her back.

     She automatically brought her head back into his chin, but as the steward released her, she was hit with a fresh wave of pain in her head. As Sherlock fended off the steward and the Doctor shouted warnings to the guests, Molly sunk to the ground with a hiss of pain, clutching her head and trying to block out the sharp pain shooting through her head. Everyone was shouting, the Doctor and Sherlock, and the rich snob who'd knocked into Astrid earlier, but she couldn't make out the words over her throbbing head, just a general thrum of noise.

     Suddenly, the ship gave a massive shudder. Molly stumbled slightly, but since she was already on the ground, she wasn't disturbed much by the hit. She stayed crouched by the wall while everyone else was thrown off-balance. The ship convulsed wildly, tables and chairs sent tumbling, sparks flying, fire rolling in from the doors, the ceiling collapsing. There were two more hits, and the whole room exploded into chaos, everyone fleeing for their lives.

     Then, everything went still. Molly lifted her head slowly, feeling more woozy and hazy then ever. Some of the furniture and curtains were still on fire, which was too bright for her to look at very long, but the ship had stopped shaking, and the only sound left was of fire crackling and people whimpering. Molly tried to stand, but a sharp rush of pain convinced her otherwise, forcing a whimper of pain from her.

     She saw the Doctor crouched with Astrid a few paces away, and Sherlock with the steward who'd tried to take Molly. They both hurried to the companion's side, crouching beside her. The Doctor's eyes were dark with worry. “You alright?” he asked anxiously.

     Molly fought back the pain, forcing a slight grin. “Yeah, I'm fine, just fell.” She tried to stand again, but the pain forced her to the ground as she let out a slight hiss.

     Sherlock didn't look convinced. “You went down before the collision happened. You used your head to fend off the guard, you must have hit the same place you hit your head earlier. You've just gone and made it worse.”

     The companion let out a slight growl, feeling irritated with Sherlock's usual lack of tact. “It wasn't exactly the plan,” she grumbled.

     The Doctor looked at her anxiously, looking carefully at her eyes. “Right, you need to rest,” he said firmly. “I mean it this time.”

     Through the pain, Molly managed to glare pointedly at him. “Yes, 'cause I'm sure we'll be perfectly safe just sitting around here 'til we magically get saved. I'll be fine, Doctor, just give me a minute.”

     The Time Lord looked unconvinced, but before he could argue further, the steward who'd grabbed him got shakily to his feet and cleared his throat. “Er, everyone. Ladies and gentlemen, Bannakaffalatta. I must apologise on behalf of Max Capricorn Cruiseliners. We seem to have had a small collision.”

     From the spot where he and Foon had been crouching, Morvin let out a disbelieving snort. “Small?” he repeated mockingly.

     The rich snob from before snapped, “Do you know how much I paid for my ticket?” Molly fought the urge to storm over to him and slug him in the face – pain was making her irritable, and he was being exceptionally annoying.

     “If I could have silence, ladies, gentlemen. Please.” The grumbling and whimpering continued until the steward grew impatient and snapped, “Quiet!” Everyone fell silent. “Thank you.” He hesitated before continuing. He seemed rather shaken by the whole thing, but determined to do his job. “I'm sure Max Capricorn Cruiseliners will be able to reimburse you for any inconvenience, but first I would point out that we're very much alive. She is, after all, a fine, sturdy ship. If you could all stay here while I ascertain the exact nature of the situation.” Looking nervous, he went to check a nearby door.

     The Doctor cried out, “Don't open it!” but it was too late. The door was opened, revealing space outside rather than the rest of the ship, and the steward was pulled out into the vacuum of space. Molly had to hold onto the edge of the stage to keep from being pulled out as well. The suction continued until the Doctor managed to sonic the frame, re-establishing the oxygen shield.

     The Time Lord turned back to the people left in the ballroom. “Everyone all right? Sherlock? Astrid? Molly?”

     The former pathologist nodded, suppressing a groan. Sherlock nodded as well, and Astrid let out a small, “Yeah.”

     The Time Lord turned to the others. “Foon? Morvin? Mister Copper? Bannakaffalatta?” They all nodded, letting the Doctor turn to the last man in the room, the annoying snob. “You, what was your name?”

     “Rickston Slade,” he supplied.

     “You all right?” the Doctor checked.

     “No thanks to that idiot,” Slade sneered, glaring at the door the steward had opened.

     Molly felt a rush of anger. “You mean the guy that just died?” she asked in a low growl. “Have a bit of respect for the dead, all right?”

     “All right, so he's dead,” Slade said impatiently. “That just makes him a dead idiot.”

     Molly couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. “Listen you - “

     “All right, calm down,” the Doctor cut her off hastily. “Just stay still, all of you. Hold on.”

     Astrid looked around with wide eyes. “What happened? How come the shields were down?”

     The Doctor frowned, his eyes shadowed. “I don't think it was an accident,” he said darkly. Molly remembered the captain's refusal to listen to the Doctor's warnings and wondered if he was right. Had the captain intentionally wrecked his own ship? Why?

     While Sherlock stayed with Molly, the Doctor and Astrid were looking out the hatch into the darkness of space. Astrid seemed subdued as she asked, “How many dead?”

We're alive,” the Doctor reminded her. “Just focus on that. I will get you out of here, Astrid, I promise.” She was still staring at space, trembling slightly, so he put a hand on her shoulder. “Look at me,” he said gently. Still wide-eyed, she turned to look at him. “I promise.” She hesitated, then nodded, accepting his word. “Good. Now, if we can get to Reception, I've got a spaceship tucked away. We can all get on board and – oh.”

     Molly froze, the last word setting off warning bells in her head. Already dreading the answer, she asked, “What?”

     He looked back at her with a anxious, baffled expression partial to the Time Lord. “Er, remember how we parked the TARDIS in the hall?”

     A pause. “Please tell me you're joking.”

     He shook his head. “Nope. She's drifting just there.” He pointed it out for Astrid to see.

     The waitress wrinkled her nose. “What, that little blue box? That's a spaceship?”

     “Oi, don't knock it,” the Time Lord said defensively.

     Astrid raised an eyebrow. “It's a bit small,” she pointed out.

     The Doctor sighed. “A bit distant,” he added wistfully. “Trouble is, once it's set adrift, it's programmed to lock onto the nearest center of gravity, and that would be the Earth.”

     Molly felt a rush of dread. “So basically, we're stuck.”

     The Doctor nodded, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “For the moment, yeah.”

     Molly fought another groan, but at the same time, an odd sense of excitement was building up in her. True, they were in danger, stranded from the TARDIS, on a spaceship about to crash into Earth and destroy it, but it felt so different from the year on that desolate Earth. She had the Doctor, and Sherlock, and a sonic screwdriver, and while that wasn't much better odds than she'd had during the Year, this time there was a hope in fighting, and a hope of winning. This wasn't a war, this was an adventure, and she didn't realize until now just how much she'd missed them.

     Now all they had to do was figure out what to do next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, before I say anything intelligent and constructive, allow me my brief moment of freak-out:
> 
> ...
> 
> ...
> 
> WILFWILFWILFIGOTTOWRITEWILFYAYWILFWILFWILF!!!!
> 
> ...
> 
> And back to business. :D But seriously, I'm going to quote Tumblr here and say that no matter which companion you happen to dislike - whether you've got issues with Rose being clingy, with Martha not being sensitive about Rose, with Donna for being loud and bossy, etc., etc., - rarely do you ever find a Whovian who doesn't love the wonder that is Wilf. And yes, since I cut the End of Time, that means I nixed all the Doctor/Wilf father/son scenes from there, but don't worry! I'll find a way to include that relationship, 'cause it's just too cute to cut, damnit.
> 
> As for the actual story, yes, I've brought Molly's concussion back, the ship has been crashed into, and now the real fun begins. As for whether I'm letting Astrid live or not, as I know some of you are wondering, and whether anything else will be changed by Molly and Sherlock's involvement - I dunno. I'm working this one out as I go. What I do know is, if I keep going at this rate, this story's going to be a four-parter. So there's that to look forward to.


	4. Voyage of the Damned: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the ship is hit, the Doctor takes control of the situation.

     The Doctor went back to the frame, speaking into the comm. “Deck twenty two to the bridge. Deck twenty two to the bridge. Is anyone there?”

     There was a pause, then a new voice came from the other end. “This is the bridge,” a quiet voice said.

     The Time Lord grinned triumphantly. “Oh hello, sailor! Good to hear you. What's the situation up there?”

     “ _We've got air. The oxygen field is holding, but the Captain, he's dead._ ” The sailor hesitated, then continued in a shaky tone, “ _He did it. I watched while he took down the shields. There was nothing I could do. I tried. I did try._ ” His voice had faded into a fearful whimper.

     “All right. Just stay calm,” the Doctor said calmly. It didn't surprise him that much that the captain had sabotaged the ship – the only question was, why? “Tell me your name. What's your name?”

     In a slightly calmer tone, the sailor told him, “ _Midshipman Frame._ ”

     “Nice to meet you, sir,” the Doctor greeted. “What's the state of the engines?”

     “ _They're, er... hold on..._ ” The sailor trailed off as he went to check. As he did, the Doctor heard a sharp gasp of pain from the other line.

     The Doctor felt a pang of concern. “Have you been injured?” he asked. It was bad enough that Molly was hurt and there was nothing, for the moment, that he could do about it. He didn't need someone all the way on the bridge being injured without help.

     “ _I'm all right,_ ” the midshipman groaned unconvincingly. There was a pause, then a gasp. “ _Oh, my Vot. They're cycling down._ ”

     He paused. _Not good. Definitely not good._ “That's a nuclear storm drive, yes?”

     “ _Yeah._ ”

     “The moment they're gone we lose orbit.”

     The midshipman understood immediately. “ _The planet._ ”

     “Oh, yes,” the Time Lord confirmed grimly. “If we hit the planet, the nuclear storm explodes and wipes out life on Earth.” He ran a hand through his wild hair, mind racing as he tried to figure out a way to get everyone through this. “Midshipman, I need you to fire up the engine containment field and feed it back into the core.”

     “ _This is never going to work,_ ” Frame protested.

     “Trust me, it'll keep the engines going until I can get to the bridge,” the Doctor assured him. He turned the comm off and turned back to the survivors. Sherlock and Astrid were crouched beside Molly, but Morvin, Foon, Copper, and Slade were all standing, staring wide-eyed at the Doctor.

     “We're going to die!” Foon whimpered.

     “Are you saying someone's done this on purpose?” Copper asked fearfully.

     “We are. We're going to die.”

     Everyone was talking at once, running over top of each other. The Doctor finally had enough. “Okay, okay. Shush, shush, shush, shush, shush.” The survivors all fell silent, Slade glaring, everyone else wary. Molly looked up from her spot by the wall, brow still scrunched slightly in pain.

     He was getting really worried about his companion. The head injury was a concern, clearly, but worse was the fact tat she kept refusing help. She was clearly in pain, but she seemed almost angry whenever someone tried to help her. It was different from the shyness and not wanting to be a burden from before. She seemed jumpy, defensive, angry. He had no idea what was causing it, but whatever it was was making her hold in the pain. She was concussed, and he couldn't tell how badly because she was being stubborn and trying to cover it up. He held back an annoyed growl. He wished there was something he could do for her, but right now there was nothing, and that annoyed him to no end. For now, Sherlock would have to look out for her.

     The Time Lord shook off his worries about his companion, then turned back to the other survivors. “First things first. One. We are going to climb through this ship. B. No. Two. We're going to reach the bridge. Three. Or C. We're going to save the Titanic. And, coming in a very low four, or D, or that little iv in brackets they use in footnotes, why. Right then, follow me. Sherlock, Astrid, help Molly.”

     He turned and started to leave, but Slade's annoyed voice called after him. “Hang on a minute. Who put you in charge and who the hell are you anyway?”

     The Doctor felt the anger that'd been building since the TARDIS drifting off reach a boiling point. He had an injured companion, a ship about to crash into the Earth and blow it up, a huddled, terrified group of survivors he had to keep safe, countless people already dead on his watch, and a missing TARDIS. And now this arrogant man, this self-important human, had the gall to question him, to act like his questions were more important than the lives of everyone on board.

     The Doctor could feel the Oncoming Storm simmering underneath as he turned and glared at the man. “I'm the Doctor,” he growled out, standing completely straight and glaring the man straight in the eyes. “I'm a Time Lord. I'm from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous. I'm nine hundred and three years old and I'm the man who's going to save your lives and all six billion people on the planet below.”

     Everyone stared at him with wide eyes. He focused on the dumbfounded Slade as he growled, “You got a problem with that?”

     Slade tried to cover up his embarrassment, straightening his shoulders as he admitted, “No.”

     The Doctor glared at him for a moment, making sure there weren't going to be any more outbursts, before growling, “In that case, allons-y!”

SCENEBREAK

     Molly reluctantly accepted the help of Sherlock and Astrid as they headed through the ship. She felt okay to stand now, but her head still felt kind of hazy, and there was still a throbbing pain in her head where she'd been hit. Sherlock and Astrid stayed on either side of her, supporting her and letting her lean on their weight. Molly was still feeling iffy about accepting help, but though she didn't say it, she was grateful for their support – she wasn't sure she'd be walking as well without it at the moment.

     As they ascended up a staircase, Mr. Copper pointed out, “Rather ironic, but this is very much in the spirit of Christmas. It's a festival of violence. They say that human beings only survive depending on whether they've been good or bad. It's barbaric.”

     Molly chuckled slightly. “Seriously? Where did you even hear that? Humans don't do anything of the sort, I should know.” The headache was making her a little less choosy with her words.

     Mr. Copper looked at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

     Without looking back at them, the Doctor explained, “Molly and Sherlock are humans, straight off Earth. And Molly's right, Christmas is a time of, of peace and thanksgiving and...” He trailed off, then shook his head. “What am I on about? My Christmases are always like this.”

     The companion let out a snort. “Let me guess, that stuff the guy at the newsstand was talking about, that was all you?”

     “I didn't _cause_ any of it, I just got mixed up in it,” the Time Lord defended himself. He was a few paces ahead of everyone, so he reached the landing before they did. As they got there, he was pulling some debris off one of the angel hosts. “We've got a Host. Strength of ten.” He looked back at the rest of the group. “If we can mend it, we can use it to fix the rubble.”

     Morvin approached the host. “We can do robotics,” he said, gesturing to his wife. “Both of us.”

     “We work on the milk market back on Sto,” Foon added. “It's all robot staff.”

     The Doctor nodded and told them, “See if you can get it working. Molly, Astrid, you stay with them, help them if they needed.” After that, he turned to the rest of the group. “Let's have a look.” He led them further up the staircase, leaving the Van Holfs, Astrid, and Molly alone with the angel host.

SCENEBREAK

     As they worked, they could hear the Doctor and the others trying to clear a way through to the next room a few feet above. Molly knew the Time Lord had left her with the Van Hoffs to let her rest a bit, but she was finding it hard to mind, now that she was getting the chance to sit again. She and Astrid helped pass the Van Hoffs tools or held mechanical parts in place while they worked on the host.

     They could hear Slade sneer above, “Thing is, how are Mister and Mrs Fatso going to get through that gap?” Molly tensed with anger, feeling a surge of fury on behalf of the Van Hoffs. They seemed really nice, and Slade had no right to judge.

     Foon had clearly heard Slade's comment. She looked down uncomfortably, fiddling absentmindedly with some mechanics. Morvin looked at her worriedly. “Hey, hey. Come on, sweetheart. Don't listen to him.”

     “Yeah, Slade's a right snob,” Molly assured her. “If I weren't hobbling like an old woman I'd probably have punched him by now.” Which wasn't how it would've been before the Year. Was that another sign of how much she'd changed? Or was she just irritable because her head felt like it'd been hit with a sledgehammer?

     Foon shook her head sadly. “No, but it's all my fault, though,” she said quietly. “The tickets.”

     “We won them fair and square,” Morvin reminded her.

     “I know,” Foon said, her gaze darting from her husband back down to the ground. “I never told you. I dialed the competition line five thousand times. That's five thousand credits. I might as well have paid for the tickets. I've been hiding the vone bill for months now.” The words tumbled out, as though she'd been holding them back for too long and was eager to get them out.

     Morvin stared at her in shock. “Five thousand credits? You spent five thousand credits?” he asked incredulously. Molly wasn't sure exactly how that converted, but judging by Morvin's reaction, it was a lot.

     Foon seemed seriously anxious now. “Don't hate me.” Morvin blinked at her blankly a few moments, then began softly chuckling, building into full-blown laughter. Foon stared at him in shock. “What's so funny?”

     “Five thousand?” Morvin repeated through his laughter.

     Foon nodded warily. “We'll never pay it off.”

     That just made him laugh harder. “I know. I'll have to work twenty years, you mad, bloody woman.”

     His wife's brow furrowed in confusion. “You're not cross?” she asked warily.

     “Does it matter?” Morvin asked. “Look at us.” He gestured to the wrecked ship around them, still chuckling. “You drive me barmy. I don't half love you, Mrs Van Hoff. Come here.” With a grin, he pulled his wife in a for a quick kiss, the two grinning at each other and rubbing noses, foreheads pressed together. Molly couldn't help but smile, warmed by the sight. Even with everything falling to hell around them, this couple found the time to be happy together.

SCENEBREAK

     They returned to work, the four of them working on the host while the others worked on clearing the debris above. As they worked, Astrid asked Molly curiously, “So, you're really a human? You really live on that planet down there?” Morvin and Foon looked up, trying not to look too interested in the answer.

     Molly nodded. “Yeah, Sherlock and I are human. But I don't live on Earth – well, not anymore. Not since I started traveling with him. Now I live on his ship, the TARDIS, with him and Sherlock, and we travel. We can go anywhere at all, and we've seen so many amazing places... I mean, it's dangerous too,” she added as she thought about the Year, and a ship falling towards a sun, and Daleks in Manhattan. “But it's worth it. It really is.”

     Astrid, Foon, and Morvin listened with awe, looking wistful as she described her adventures. “It sounds wonderful,” Astrid said longingly.

     Molly smiled as she remembered all a year of TARDIS travel. “Yeah, it is,” she agreed softly.

     The waitress hesitated before asking, “And what about him? The Doctor? What's he like?”

     The companion was surprised that Astrid was so interested. She could guess the cause of the interest, and while she could see why someone would find the Doctor attractive, it was a bit of an odd concept for her. She'd spent three months as the Time Lord's sister, and even though he was no longer human, that was still the way she saw him. “He's great,” she told the waitress. “I owe him a lot. I didn't have any confidence when I met him, and he kind of showed me that I'm important too. He's my best friend.”

     “But you two aren't...?”

     “No, no, not at all,” Molly assured her quickly.

     Astrid looked down awkwardly. “Sorry, I know it's not my place to -”

     “It's fine,” the companion told her with a smile. She was starting to think Astrid might be companion material – someone who was brave, who cared about other people, with a taste for adventure and seeing the stars. Maybe after this was all over, the Doctor would want to take her with them. It might be a little weird, but it'd be fun to have someone new other than Sherlock on board, someone to share in the excitement of new places with and to appreciate the traveling and the stars.

     Morvin and Foon were almost finished with working on the host. “Almost done!” Morvin called up to the Doctor.

     “Good, good, good,” the Doctor replied distractedly. He seemed to be speaking to the sailor in the bridge again through the intercom. “Mister Frame, how's things?”

     She couldn't hear the reply, but she could hear the worry in the Doctor's voice as he asked, “What is it? Are they losing air?”

     A few seconds later, Morvin put the last piece into place, and the angel host thrummed to life, jerking its head up. “It's working!” he said triumphantly.

     At the same time, the Doctor came bolting down the stairs. “Turn it off!” he warned wildly. Molly felt a rush of fear. Whatever Frame had told him had clearly been some sort of warning about the hosts, and they had just given it power.

     “Kill, kill,” the host chanted in it's eerie monotone. Without warning the metal hands snaked out and wrapped themselves around Morvin's throat. Foon gasped in horror, while Molly and Astrid worked to pry its fingers loose.

     “Turn it off!” the Doctor ordered Foon.

     “I can't!”

     The Time Lord tried sonicing it, but to no avail. He let out a frustrated growl. “Double deadlocked.” After a few moments, Molly and Astrid were able to get the host's hands off Morvin's throat. “Quickly, go upstairs!” the Time Lord ordered.

     Astrid and Movin helped Molly up the stairs, Foon just behind them. They made it up to the landing with everyone else, but Molly could see the gap they'd made in the debris wasn't going to be big enough. The Doctor called from further down the stairs, “Rickston, get them through!”

     “No chance!” the businessman sneered. Before the Doctor could order him again, he crawled through the hole to the other side.

     “Rickston!” Mr. Copper cried angrily, but there was no reply. Molly ignored her increasing anger and tried to figure out a way to help the Van Hoffs.

     “I'll never get through there,” Foon whimpered.

     “Yes, you can,” Mr. Copper assured her. “Let me go first.” He crawled through the hole, followed by Sherlock, but unlike Slade, they waited at the other end, ready to help Foon and Morvin get through. Astrid went through after them, but Molly stayed, working to clear some of the debris so the hole would be bigger, even though it was too late to do much more.

     Foon tried to get through first, but the hole still wasn't big enough. “Now I'm stuck!” she gasped out.

     The debris began to shift dangerously, threatening to collapse. Molly went automatically to hold up the metal beams above Foon, calling out to the people on the other side, “It's going to collapse! We need to hold it up to let her through!” Her head was pounding, but the Year had made her strong, strong enough to keep holding the metal up, for now.

     She felt something else help lift the metal beams – presumably Mr. Copper and Sherlock – and Foon was able to get through. “Come on Morvin, your turn!” she called to the next Van Hoff. He started to get through, but the metal began to slide again, and he became stuck. “Guys, pull him through!” she called out to the others. She struggled to keep the beam up as Morvin was yanked through to the other side.

     The Doctor hurried up the stairs, followed by the angel host. “Molly, get through!” he ordered.

     She was about to protest, but she felt the beam being pulled up off her shoulders. She heard Sherlock's voice from behind the debris. “We've got it, Sherlock told her, “now come on!”

     Molly moved as quickly as she could, dropping the beam and crawling under to the other side. Morvin and Foon helped her through.

     As she sat, winded, she heard Astrid call out, “Doctor, come on, get through!”

     Instead of coming through to the other side, the Time Lord took the dangerous option, as he did best, and turned back to the host. “Information override!” he shouted quickly. “You will tell me the point of origin of your command structure!”

     Mr. Copper and Sherlock were working together to hold up the metal, Sherlock manually, Mr. Copper with a metal rod. “We can't hold it!” Copper cried as the metal beam began to slide.

     The host _dinged_ before telling him, “Information. Deck thirty one.”

     “Thank you,” the Doctor quipped before slipping under the gap. The host started to follow him, but the Doctor ordered Sherlock and Mr. Copper, “Let go!” They released the beam, which fell onto the host's head, smashing it in, killing the robot.

     Molly let out a slight breath, sliding down to the ground. Now that the adrenaline was fading, her headache was making her realize just how much that had taken out of her. But for now, at least, they were safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so, new chapter. And more Molly and Sherlock participation, though this chapter's mostly Molly. If it helps, though, Sherlock was helping the Doctor and the others clear the debris, and his help is part of the reason Morvin was able to get through the debris without the Doctor's help, that and Molly's help kept the metal a little higher, making the hole a little bigger.
> 
> Yes, for the first time this story, we get the Doctor's POV back. As you can see, he's worried about Molly, and he's not quite sure what's up with her. We'll get to more of that later.
> 
> Hopefully, only one more chapter of this, then maybe an interlude before we get to Partners in Crime! I can't wait to write Donna, she's one of my favorite companions.


	5. Voyage of the Damned: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and the survivors try to escape the angel hosts.

     They reached a corridor further along in the ship, an open area clearly not meant for guests. Everything was metal, with pipes running along the ceiling. There was a trolley a few paces away, with sandwiches and other party foods laid on it. Foon noticed it, nudging her husband. “Morvin, look. Food!”

     Slade rolled his eyes with a sneer. “Oh great. Someone's happy.”

     Morvin gave him a withering glare. “Don't have any then,” he retorted.

     As he and Foon made their way over, the woman turned to Molly. “Do you want anything, dear?” she asked kindly.

     The companion shook her head, grimacing a little. “Nah, not really hungry.” The Doctor frowned with concern. Nausea was one of the symptoms of a concussion.

     The Time Lord noticed a comm connected to the wall nearby, with a blank monitor on the wall. He headed over, turning it on and connecting to the bridge. “Mister Frame, are you still there?”

     After a few moments, a response finally crackled through. “ _Yes, sir, but I've got Host outside. I've sealed the door._ ”

     The Doctor frowned. This wasn't making sense. “They've been programmed to kill. Why would anyone do that?”

     “ _That's not the only problem, Doctor,_ ” Frame warned him, “ _I had to use a maximum deadlock on the door, which means no one can get in. I'm sealed off. Even if you can fix the_ Titanic _you can't get to the bridge._ ”

     The Doctor gave a frustrated groan. A deadlock seal was one of the few things his sonic screwdriver couldn't override. “Yeah, right, fine. One problem at a time.” He moved onto the little information the host had given him. “What's on deck thirty one?”

     Frame sounded confused by the question. " _Er, that's down below. It's nothing. It's just the Host storage deck. That's where we keep the robots._ " The monitor flashed to life, displaying a map of the ship. Deck thirty one was pulled up.

     The Doctor squinted at a black mark on the screen. "Well, what's that? Do you see that panel?" It was a whole room, a little black rectangle. "Black. It's registering nothing. No power, no heat, no light."

     " _I've never seen it before,_ " Frame admitted, sounding worried.

     " One hundred percent shielded," the Time Lord observed, looking closer. "What's down there?" he wondered aloud.

     " _I'll try intensifying the scanner,_ " Frame offered.

     "Let me know if you find anything," the Doctor told him. "And keep those engines going."

     He clicked off the comm, feeling a rush of frustration. His first trip after being stuck in a wheelchair for a year, and he'd nearly gotten his little group killed. He should have realized the host were dangerous, should have put the host shorting out earlier and the ship being out together in his mind. A year out of the game had made him slow.

     Astrid made her way over to him, a plate of food in hand. "Saved you some," she said with a smile. "You might be a Time King from Gaddabee but you need to eat."

     The Doctor accepted it gratefully, not having realized how hungry he was until then. The Master hadn't starved him or anything, but it hadn't exactly been an all-you-can-eat buffet, and he hadn't eaten since the Valiant. "Thanks." He hesitated, then asked, "How's Molly?"

     Astrid shrugged. "Worse than she lets on I think, but she seems alright to walk. Morvin and Foon are looking after her now." The couple was chatting animatedly with her, drawing a tired smile from the companion. The Doctor made a mental note to thank them later.

     Which reminded him, Astrid had been helping her too. "Thanks for that, by the way."

     She smiled. "No problem." There was a pause, then, "So, you look good for nine hundred and three."

     The Time Lord chuckled. "You should see me in the mornings."

     "Okay," she said seriously.

     The Doctor looked at her in surprise, mind going momentarily blank. Before he was forced to respond, Sherlock made his way over. "You have any more information on the host?" he asked stiffly.

     "Maybe," the Doctor replied. He showed Sherlock the monitor and repeated what Frame had told him. "Figure I'll have to head down and check it out."

     Sherlock nodded. "Good. Then we both know Max Capricorn's hiding down there."

     The Time Lord blinked at him blankly a few times, taken off guard. "...not so much, no," he admitted weakly. "What makes you say that?"

     The detective smirked. "Really? Isn't it obvious?" When the Time Lord continued to look surprised, Sherlock's smirk grew. "I went looking for information earlier, remember? There were a number of knowledgable staff on board, not to mention a few concerned stockholders. Max Capricorn's business went under months ago, but before they did, the board locked Max out of his own company. The host are developed by a branch of his company, and as this is a ship, they're presumably programmed to obey a chain of command. Max being the head of that command would've been in their original programming, and even if that was overwritten it would be easy to change that back. Max has the greatest to gain and the least to lose. He has no money left to lose, and if one of his company's ships destroys the Earth, it'll bankrupt the board that fired him, if not throw them in jail. I'm betting he's giving the host their orders from deck thirty one, presumably somewhere safe from explosion."

     The Doctor just stared at him a few moments, blinking in shock and trying not to look too impressed. "Yeah, well... alright, yeah, that's pretty brilliant," he admitted.

     "I know," the detective replied smugly.

     The Doctor felt a brief flash of irritation, and an even briefer feeling of guilt. _Is this what it's like to be around me?_ Shaking it off, he said, "Right, so, angry bankrupt billionaire crashes his own ship and stays on board. He's probably got plenty of host guarding him, but he won't be expecting anyone looking for him. Came up with this clever plan himself, probably thinks no one'll figure him out, or that there's no one left alive to. Should work in our favor, then."

     Before Sherlock could reply, there was a loud _bang_ as someone tried to punch through the door. The Doctor, Astrid, and Sherlock jumped to their feet. "A host! Move! Come on!" The whole group bolted, Morvin and Foon helping Molly along as fast as they could. They turned to a side hallway, heading through the first door they came across, the Doctor sonicing it open and locking it shut behind them.

     When he turned back to look at the room they were in, he froze, horror pounding in his hearts. A wide gulf stretched ahead of them, nothing but the fire of the engines below, with only a thin metal rail offering passage to the other side.

     Slade stared at it with wide eyes. "Is that the only way across?" he asked with wild disbelief.

     Trying to stat positive, the Doctor pointed out, "On the other hand, it is a way across."

     Astrid stared at the fiery gulf with wide eyes. "The engines are open," she observed shakily.

     The Doctor nodded grimly. "Nuclear storm drive," he explained. "As soon as it stops, the Titanic falls."

     From his position helping support Molly, Morvin stared at the metal rail with horror. "But that thing, it'll never take our weight," he protested.

     Slade glared at the couple. "You're going last, mate."

     Molly looked ready to growl with anger, but before she could say anything, Sherlock stepped in, glaring at Slade with as much condensation as possible. "Actually, the most logical solution is to let them go first. The rail will be strongest then, and it'll be less likely to collapse then. Go from heaviest to lightest."

     Slade snorted. "Fat chance. I'm not risking my neck so those two can live to stuff their faces."

     The detective raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Rickston, when all this is over, we'll undoubtably have to talk to police about the deaths onboard. When we do, do you really want me to tell them about how you've been embezzling from your company's funds, or what it took to close your deal with Capricorn's company?" Slade's face went completely white, and for what felt like the first time, he snapped his mouth shut. The Doctor gave an amused half-smirk, impressed with the way Sherlock had handled him.

     A moment later, there was the sound of metal bending and a terrified cry. Copper had stepped forward to look over the edge at the flames, and the metal had given way under his feet. Before any of them could react, he was sent tumbling over the edge into the flames below. Astrid screamed, Bannakaffalatta, Morvin, Foon, and  Slade watched with horror, and Molly and Sherlock just looked on quietly, Molly sad, Sherlock with the slightest hint of regret in his eyes. The Doctor could just watch with a deep feeling of guilt. Another person he had failed.

     "Oh my Vot," Morvin breathed. "That poor man."

     Astrid's eyes watered. "Isn't there anything we can do?" she asked the Doctor.

     The Time Lord shook his head grimly. "I'm sorry."

     There was a brief moment of silence, then Sherlock turned to Morvin. "You first." Looking completely terrified, Morvin nevertheless began to make his way across the rail, slow at first, but slowly growing more confidence. A few moments later, however, the ship shook, sending him slamming down onto the rail. He just managed to avoid rolling off the side into the fiery gulf below. "Careful!" the Doctor called out in warning.

     Whimpering slightly, Morvin got back to his feet, hurrying across. He finally reached the other side, letting out a slight laugh of relief. "I made it!"

     The Doctor grinned, feeling a sudden burst of confidence. "Fantastic!" he cried, slipping into his former personality for a moment. "Foon, you're next, off you go!"

     Looking a bit more confident now that her husband had made it across, Foon started across the rail. When she was halfway across, more banging sounded from the door behind them, hosts chanting, "Kill, kill, kill."

     The Doctor hurried to the door, locking it with his sonic, then turned back to the group. "Right, Astrid, Sherlock, get Molly across, then Slade, then Bannakaffalatta."

     "What about you?" Molly protested.

      "I'll be there in a minute, now go!"

     Molly looked ready to protest again, but Astrid and Sherlock pulled her away, hurrying her across the rail. Foon had already reached the other side, and the rail seemed to be pretty sturdy. Molly, Sherlock, and Astrid were hardly across, however, when Slade abandoned restraint and started off across the rail. "Slade, slow down!" the Doctor called out irritably.

     From the other side, Morvin called, "Doctor, door on this side's locked, we need your shinning blue key thing."

     The Doctor nodded. "Be there in a second. Bannakaffalatta, come on after me." He hurried across the beam, but before he was completely across, the banging from the door stopped. A deathly quiet fell.

     Slade looked nervously back at the door. "Did they leave?" he asked dubiously.

     The Doctor felt his blood freeze. She didn't know why they'd stopped, but he knew it couldn't be good. "Move, now!" he shouted. Molly, Astrid, and Sherlock made it to the other side, but before Slade could make it, there was a rumble from above. To the Doctor's horror, five angel hosts descended from above, their metal wings flapping and keeping them suspended. As one, they reached for the halos on their heads, which the Doctor realized were weapons.

     He considered telling them to grab something to fight, but a glance at Molly told him that making her fight wouldn't be a good idea. Besides, he was nearly to the other side. All he needed was to get the door and get it open. “Run!”

     They all ran across the rail, dodging the halos that came flying at them, slicing at whatever was in their path, like some sort of deadly frisbees. Sherlock, Molly, and Astrid reached the other side safely, but Slade went too fast and slipped, tumbling over the side. He was able to grab onto the edge, but was left hanging, unable to pull himself up.

     The Doctor hurried to help, but Astrid got there first. She'd already been safe on the other side, but when she'd seen Slade fall, she'd started back across the rail, going down on her hands and knees to help Slade up. She pulled him back up onto the rail, but before she could stand, one of the hosts' halos slammed into her side. Already slightly off-balance, the force of it threw Astrid over the side. The Doctor screamed her name in protest, but it was too late. The waitress was sent screaming into the fiery abyss.

     The Time Lord stared after her with horror, hearts pounding. He'd hardly wanted to admit it to himself, but he'd been considering offering Astrid a place on the TARDIS. She had been companion material – smart, brave, compassionate. She'd died saving Slade's life, the least thankful or deserving person in the party. And now she was gone. Too many people had been lost already.

     Slade let out a slow breath. For a moment, the Doctor thought he was going to express some sense of grief at Astrid's death, but instead he stood shakily, looking down at himself in relief. “It's alright, I'm alright.”

     The Time Lord felt fury boiling in his blood. In the calmest tone he could manage, he asked, “What about Astrid? She's not 'alright.'”

     The businessman shrugged unconcernedly. “So?” he asked coldly. “It's not my fault she was a klutz.”

     It took all of the Doctor's self-control to keep the Oncoming Storm under locks. He didn't want to do something he'd regret. Still, that didn't keep him from shouting, “She just died saving your life!” Then he forced himself to take a breath. They had to keep moving. “Come on,” he growled, pulling Slade up and pushing him forward, forcing him to keep going across the rail.

     It was only a few steps left to the door. The Doctor was quickly able to unlock it, letting them through into the next room. He locked it quickly behind them, even as halos banged against the door. The Time Lord frowned, looking back at his small group. “It's no good. They'll keep coming after us.” He hesitated, the nodded once, his mind made up. “Right, you lot, stay here, find somewhere safe to hide out. Find a comm, try to contact Frame and get him to send out and SOS. Morvin, Foon, look after Molly. Molly, look after Sherlock. Rickston, er.... look after yourself.” He turned back towards the door, starting to open it again.

     “What are you doing?” Molly asked with alarm.

     “Getting a ride to deck thirty one,” the Time Lord told her grimly.

     “What, from the hosts?” she asked dubiously. “How? You'll get yourself killed!”

     He gave her a little half-smirk, the best he could manage after all the death. “I'll think of something. I'm clever, remember?”

     “Then I'm coming,” Sherlock said, to the Doctor's surprise.

     The Time Lord shook his head. “I need you here with the others, Sherlock.”

     “I have a plan,” the detective explained. “And from what I've seen of your operations, I think that's something you're sorely in need of.”

     The Doctor hesitated, then sighed. “Yeah, alright, fine, but for now, just do what I say, yeah?” He and the detective got the door open, then passed through, hurrying to close it behind them.

     As they stood facing the floating hosts again, Sherlock went to pick up a nearby pipe, but the Doctor held his hands up in a peace-keeping gesture. “No, no, no. Hold on. Override loophole. Security protocol ten.” Nothing. They kept advancing. He tried again. “Six six six. Er, twenty one, four, five, six, seven, eight.” Nothing. “I don't know, forty two? Er, one!”

     The angels paused, halting their attack. One gave off a _ding_ and told him, “Information. State request.”

     The Doctor grinned triumphantly. “Right. Now, request, request, I've got a request, more of a question really. You've been given orders to kill the survivors but survivors must therefore be passengers or staff, but not us. We're not passengers. We're not staff.” The angels continued to stare blankly at him, but they did not resume their attack. “Go on, scan us. You must have bio-records. No such people on board. We don't exist, therefore you can't kill us. Therefore, we're stowaways, and stowaways should be arrested and taken to the nearest figure of authority. And I reckon the nearest figure of authority is on deck thirty one. Am I right?”

     There was a pause, long enough to make him rethink his plan. Then; “Information. Correct.”

     The Time Lord beamed. “Brilliant. Take me to your leader!” He turned to Sherlock with a idiotic grin. “I've always wanted to say that.” The detective rolled his eyes, but allowed himself to be led along with the Doctor by the host.

SCENEBREAK

     They were led down to deck thirty one by the hosts. The two geniuses had conversed in whispers during the trip, but now both had fallen silent, waiting for the hosts to take them to journey's end.

     When they arrived, the Doctor looked around with interest. “Wow. Now that is what you call a fixer upper.” He whirled around to face the hosts. “Come on then, Host with the most, this ultimate authority of yours. Let's see him, then.”

     Behind the hosts, two metal doors slid open, cold air and steam escaping as the air-tight atmosphere was broken. The Doctor raised his eyebrows at the sight. “Oh, that's clever. That's an omnistate impact chamber. Indestructible. You can survive anything in there. Sit through a supernova.”

     “Or a shipwreck,” Sherlock quipped, stepping in lightly beside the Doctor. The two stood backs angled towards each other, keeping an eye on the hosts around them. “And there's only one man who could pull this off, only one with reason to.”

     Through the steam, a strange metal contraption wheeled out. It was large and boxy, with a glass dome on top. Inside the dome was the head of Max Capricorn. In a rough tone, he told them, “I am Max.” He gave an oily smile, his gold tooth glinting just as it had in the video.

     The Doctor blinked in surprise, staring at the tooth. “It really does that.”

     Capricorn glared at him, then turned to the hosts. “Who the hell is this?” he growled.

     The Time Lord grinned pleasantly, bouncing forward lightly on the balls of his feet. The same old routine, the harmless facade. “I'm the Doctor, hello, and this is Sherlock Holmes, a friend of mine.” The detective shot him a slight glare at that, but otherwise didn't comment.

     One of the hosts informed Capricorn, “Information. Stowaways.”

     The Doctor shrugged. “Well.”

     Capricorn rolled his eyes. “Kill them!” he snapped irritably.

     The hosts moved towards him, but before they could attack, the Doctor hurriedly held up his hands. “Oh, no, no, no. Wait, but you can't,” he protested hastily. “Not now. Come on, Max. You've given me so much good material like, how to get ahead in business.” He chuckled, even as Sherlock and Capricorn both gave him unamused glares. “See? Head?” he prompted. “Head in business?” They just glared. “No?”

     Capricorn gave a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, ho, ho, the office joker. I like a funny man. No one's been funny with me for years.”

     “Can't imagine why,” Sherlock said drily.

     “A hundred and seventy six years of running the company have taken their toll,” the businessman admitted.

     “Still, you've got a good deal out of it, a nice little machine to cart you around,” Sherlock remarked lightly.

     Capricorn scoffed. “No, a life support system, in a society that despises cyborgs. I've had to hide away for years, running the company by hologram.” He frowned, suddenly looking concerned. “Host, situation report.”

     “Information. _Titanic_ is still in orbit.”

     The cyborg's eyes narrowed. He started to wheel towards the railing overlooking the engine, snapping, “Let me see,” to the hosts in his way. “We should have crashed by now. What's gone wrong?” They moved, as did Sherlock, to let him wheel right up to the railing. He let out a frustrated snarl. “The engines are still running! They should have stopped!”

     “Yeah, sorry about that,” the detective snarked, “I'm afraid that's our fault. See, we've got a man up on the bridge keeping this ship alive. But while we're on the subject, let's talk about your plan, because I am very interested. Why Earth? What made you choose them?”

     Capricorn rolled his eyes. “This interview is terminated,” he growled.

     He started to roll away, but Sherlock stepped in front of him. “Oh, come on now, the game's just starting. Stay a bit. A plan like this deserves to be explained, and you know it, don't you? Oh, you've been wanting to tell someone about this for ages, haven't you? Your masterpiece, your brilliance, the plan you put together piece by piece. Why not tell me? I'm the only one clever enough to keep up.”

     Capricorn hesitated, then shrugged. “I read the story of the _Titanic_ once when I was a child, and Earth is only a Level Five planet, hardly capable of meeting an attack like this. I thought it appropriate the _Titanic_ to sink where it always has.”

     “Appropriate,” Sherlock agreed drily. “So you wrapped it all up in some dramatic irony with a nice bow, the gift of revenge for the board that kicked you out.” At Capricorn's surprise, he smirked. “Oh, don't look so shocked. It's there to hear if people listen. So your business is down the drain, your board has kicked you out, you haven't got a penny left. You've got nothing left to lose, have you?”

     The cyborg nodded angrily. “They stabbed me in the back,” he growled. “Years I put into that company, nearly two centuries, and then I became _this_ , and they thought they could just toss me out!”

     Sherlock nodded. “Oh, but you weren't done, were you? They thought you were just a helpless cripple they could rid themselves of. They didn't figure for you being clever enough to get your own back.”

     “I'm not as worthless as they all thought,” he practically snarled. “They ruined me, now I can ruin them.”

     “By crashing their newest ship, the crown jewel of their collection, into a helpless planet. Blow it up, kill everyone on the planet, and the board gets the blame. Their whole world comes tumbling down, just like they brought yours down, and you get to stay in your little box and ride the whole thing out.”

     Capricorn grinned. “I have men waiting to retrieve me from the ruins and enough off-world accounts to retire me to the beaches of Penhaxico Two, where the ladies, so I'm told, are very fond of... _metal_.”

     “The perfect crime,” Sherlock conceded. Capricorn was preening under the praise, though he tried to hide it. “You've manipulated every step, and now that the Host are ridding the ship of survivors, there won't be anyone who can ever figure out what you did.”

     The cyborg gave a smug grin. “The perfect crime indeed. No one will ever know.”

     “ _Aaaaand_ , that's where you're wrong.”

     Capricorn looked up at the Doctor in surprise. Evidently, in his conversation with Sherlock, he'd gotten so caught up in the praise and revealing his plan that he'd forgotten all about the Doctor, which had been the plan.

     While they had been talking, the Doctor had been working on the controls to the doors with his sonic screwdriver. He flipped it in his hand, smirking smugly at the cyborg. “Oh, hello, don't mind me, I've just been admiring the work you've done on this impact chamber. Brilliant stuff, your suit there's connected directly to the doors. Not anymore, of course, I've changed the controls.” He held up his sonic screwdriver for Capricorn to see. “This nifty little tool of mine's let me write a new opening sequence for the door. Overrode the connection to your suit, and ooo, just for fun, added in a deadlock seal. Now even a sonic screwdriver won't get you in.” He gave the man a cocky grin. “Let's see what happens when we shut it now, eh?” His hand went for the controls.

     The cyborg cried out in protest, but it was too late. The doors slid shut, sealing with a hiss. Capricorn nearly snarled with anger, then he calmed, sneering at the Doctor. “Nice trick, but you haven't disconnected me from the engines. I can shut them off from here.”

     “Oh, we know,” Sherlock assured him. “How do you think we figured out to seal off the impact chamber and cut off your connection to it?”

     “Yeah, great thinking on Sherlock's part there,” the Doctor admitted, “though really, I did all the work.”

     Sherlock gave him a withering glare. “Work? Try praising this idiot long enough to distract him. You took your time with that, by the way.”

     Capricorn's nostrils flared, eyes wide with anger. “Idiot?! My plan was perfect!”

     The detective smirked. “I've seen better. Really, you left your motive wide open. An idiot could figure out you did this. I mean, the ship's shields were down and magnetized to draw the meteors in. It clearly wasn't an accident.”

     The cyborg let out a low growl. “You forget, I have access to the engines. I can deactivate them and get you all killed.”

     “Do that, and you die too,” the Doctor pointed out shrewdly. “You're stuck out here with the rest of us now, on the wrong side of those doors. You crash this ship, you kill yourself too, and you can't do that, can you? If you were ready to die, you would've made this a suicide mission, but instead you sunk every last penny you had into building that impact chamber. That must've cost you every cent you had left. Only a man desperate to live would go to that trouble, and a man that desperate to live isn't going to blow himself up even for revenge.” His tone grew firmer as he told Capricorn, “The engines are failing. They'll be gone in a few minutes, but you can stop that. You can luxury in a nice jail cell for the rest of your life, which is better than being dead, and you've still gotten your blow in against the board. Wrecked their best ship, haven't you? Just let it end here.”

     Capricorn glared between Sherlock and the Doctor, hatred blazing in his eyes, before finally dipping his head. The nearby monitor beeped. “ _Engines back online. Engines back on line._ ” They could feel the ship move as the course was changed, heading right away from Earth.

     The Doctor let out a slight breath, sharing a slight grin with Sherlock. They'd done it.

SCENEBREAK

     After disconnecting Capricorn from the Host, they were able to rejoin the other survivors. Slade was rude and obnoxious as ever, but Morvin, Foon, and Bannakaffalatta were thrilled when they returned. Molly grinned as they finally made their way over to her. “Frame called,” she told them. “Looks like you two saved the day.”

     “I guess we did, yeah,” the Doctor said, giving Sherlock a grin.

     Molly's expression softened into one of sympathy. “You alright?” she asked gently.

     He knew she was asking about Astrid. “Yeah, I'm fine,” he lied. It was always hard to see someone under his care die, but someone with that much courage and compassion made it harder. Still, he still had two brilliant companions, both alive and well. He was a little surprised to find himself thinking of Sherlock Holmes as a companion. After all, he was only on board because he needed somewhere to hide, and Molly had asked. But really, the detective had earned the title. He'd done enough world-saving to warrant it, and after this, the Doctor knew he could trust and rely on Sherlock as well as any companion.

     He turned to Morvin and Foon. “So, what'll you two do now that this is all over?”

     Morvin's smile faltered somewhat. “Well, we're so far in debt now we'll be working the rest of our lives, but at least we're still alive, and we've still got each other.” The couple embraced, relaxing into each other, clearly relieved to be alive.

     Bannakaffalatta cleared his throat. “Bannakaffalatta grateful to Doctor for saving him,” he told the Time Lord. “Bannakaffalatta want to help the Doctor's friends. Bannakaffalatta rich, will pay off Morvin's debts.”

     The Doctor looked at the red midget with surprise. “Really?”

     The Van Hoffs stared at him, dumbfounded. “You'd really do that for us?” Foon breathed.

     The red alien nodded with a grin. “You are friends. Survived together.”

     The Doctor grinned, suddenly filled with warmth. Slade might have been an annoying prat who let a woman die saving him without grief, but here, right here, was proof of the goodness of the universe. This is why he did what he did.

     He turned back to his companions with a bright grin. “Come on, you two. There's some teleportation bracelets left, and I think down on Earth we'll find a certain blue box waiting for us.”

     At long last, it was time to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, that turned out way longer than expected. It's a hundred words short of being 5000 words long. I nearly had to chop this chapter in half. Why does this episode seem so much longer than all the others?
> 
> Anyway, sorry about the wait, I needed to take some time to think about where I wanted to go next with this episode. A few people were complaining that I wasn't including Sherlock enough, and they were right. I hope this made up for it, and that there were enough changes from canon to satisfy everyone. For Partners in Crime, don't expect too many changes, the meeting with Donna should remain relatively the same I think. But after that episode, canon will be followed loosely. Hopefully very loosely, depending on how creative I can be.


	6. Partners in Crime: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After landing in London, the Doctor and Molly discover a troubling ad.

     It had been two weeks since the _Titanic_. They'd spent the entire time in the Time Vortex. The Doctor had said that the TARDIS needed repairs after the Paradox Machine, and the collision with the past TARDIS, and the _Titanic_ crashing through the walls. Molly could understand that, but she knew that the Doctor was only drawing it out to give her time to rest after her concussion.

     She'd thought being on a Doctor adventure was weird, but just sitting around on the TARDIS was even weirder. For a year, she'd been sleeping out in the open, with barely a blanket and nothing but dirt and rocks, maybe sheltering overnight in a slave headquarters if she was lucky. Now she had the comfort of the TARDIS back, and while she appreciated it, it was still weird.

     Spending time in the library made it easier. It had been one of her favorite TARDIS rooms before the Year, and when she curled up on the couch, in front of a crackling fire under the familiar night sky ceiling, she could sometimes lose herself in a book and forget she'd ever left. For a bit, she could escape the memories and just feel comfortable and safe.

     Sherlock had been remarkably un-destructive in the two weeks spent sitting around doing nothing. For a while, Molly had worried he'd found something dangerous and mechanical on the ship to examine and possibly break, but after a bit she figured the Doctor was keeping him entertained and away from bugging her while she rested. The way he was tiptoeing around her irked her a bit, but she was grateful she didn't have to deal with a bored Sherlock.

     After two weeks, however, even she grew restless. She'd been constantly on the move all last year, and even before that, she'd never had more than a week between adventures on the TARDIS. Two weeks worth of sitting around was starting to get to her head.

     She confronted the Doctor, who was in the console room, tinkering with something on the console. “Doctor, when are we landing?” she asked bluntly.

     The Time Lord looked up from his work, looking slightly sheepish. "Oh, you know, I just need to get a few more things calibrated -"

     "It's been two weeks," she interrupted, giving him a knowing look. "I know you, Doctor. I know you hate staying anywhere that long, even the TARDIS, and you've got to be going stir crazy after being kept on Earth for a year. My head feels fine, honestly. Lets land already." When he looked at her skeptically, she narrowed her eyes. "I'm fine," she insisted.

     The Doctor hesitated, then grinned, dashing around the TARDIS and starting up the flight sequence. "Brilliant! Right, just go find Sherlock and let him know we're landing. I think he's off exploring somewhere. The TARDIS has been keeping from getting into too much trouble."

     Molly nodded, then turned and headed off down the hall, letting the TARDIS lead her. She had missed the sentient ship, with her ever- changing architecture and her sense of humor. Today, she was evidently feeling helpful, as she led Molly straight to Sherlock.

     The detective was in some sort of garden room, staring around with frustration. Molly chuckled at the sight, understanding immediately. "So the TARDIS is keeping you away from anything technical, is she?" she asked with amusement.

     Sherlock looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. “'Her?'” he repeated dubiously.

     “Oh right, forgot to mention, the TARDIS is alive,” Molly told him cheerfully. The idea of finally landing had brought her spirits up higher than they'd been in ages. “A sentient being who doesn't like nosy companions trying to take her apart to figure out how she works.”

     The detective narrowed his eyes, gaze flicking around the hall with interest. “That would explain the pattern in the changing hallways,” he remarked lightly. “A sentient, intelligent being controlling the architecture, changing it at will. I assumed it was the Doctor's work.”

     Molly chuckled. “Yeah, she'll change the halls around on you. She's friendly though, as long as you don't try to pull anything apart to study it.” She patted the door frame fondly, smiling as a friendly _hum_ echoed through the halls. “By the way, the Doctor says we're landing soon. You ready for a trip?”

     Sherlock's expression grew somber, dark grief flashing in his eyes for a moment. “Actually, I've been meaning to ask about that. I've been working online for the last two weeks, and during the Year That Never War, I was able to discover some of Moriarty's contacts. I've tracked a group of them down and I've arranged things so that they'll be arrested. But I need to be there for the last few pieces to be put into place.”

     Molly sobered as she remembered why Sherlock had been brought on board in the first place. There hadn't been any sign of Moriarty during the Year, which matched Sherlock's story that he'd shot himself, but some of his men had survived the first wave of Toclafane attacks. Some had gone into hiding like Mycroft, but others had become part of a black market among the slaves. Trading what drugs were left, alcohol, women, favors. Murder and other crimes were still a part of life during the Year That Never Was, and Molly had seen plenty of it. Even during the worst of times, not all humans had it in them to band together rather than turning on each other.

      "Of course," Molly assured him. "Where do you need us to drop you?"

     "London." He gave her the coordinates, then told her exactly when he needed to be picked up and where. "Everything should be sorted out by then."

     She nodded. "Right, I'll let the Doctor know." As she led him through the halls to the console room, she wondered silently how long it would take to hunt down all of Moriarty's men.

     And what it would mean when it was over.

SCENEBREAK

     The Doctor agreed to drop Sherlock off where directed, plugging in the coordinates and landing the TARDIS with his usual grace and balance. The detective wore a different coat, brown and equally long, probably pulled from the TARDIS wardrobe. He also wore a hat, and had his coat collar up to hide his face. Molly still didn't think it was a good idea to let the man who was supposed to be dead walk around London, but it was only for a few hours, and he'd be back on the TARDIS when it was done.

     As Sherlock walked away and disappeared into the crowd, the Doctor turned back towards the TARDIS. "Right then. Off to the Crystal Snows of Paldoon?"

     Molly didn't answer. Her attention had been caught by a nearby billboard. She headed over, eyes narrowed as she studied it. It displayed a before and after picture of a woman, featuring significant weight loss in the second picture. The thing that had caught Molly's attention were the dates; the after picture had only been taken two weeks after the before picture.

     “Doctor, come look at this.” She waved the Time Lord over, pointing to the dates. “There's no way any diet pill can make you lose that much weight in that short amount of time. And look.” She gestured to another part of the ad. “Look at those sponsors. You wouldn't get people like that sinking money into a weight-loss program unless there were some serious results.”

     The Doctor's eyes narrowed. “You're right.” He pulled out his sonic screwdriver, then turned to her. “Can I see your phone?” She handed it to him, and he used the screwdriver to scroll quickly through internet searches on the ad. “Hmm, seems to be all over the place. Popped out of nowhere over the last few months, now it's booming.” He gave her a conspiratorial grin. “Seems suspicious.”

     She grinned back. “Definitely worth looking into,” she agreed.

     The Time Lord turned and locked the TARDIS, then whirled back around to face Molly, offering her an arm with a knowing grin. “So, miss Hooper, off to investigate Adipose Industries?” Grinning, she took the offered arm, and together they started off down the street.

SCENEBREAK

     With some help from the internet, they eventually found the building housing Adipose Industries. The building was tall with glass windows, stretching high above their heads. They snuck around back, sonicing open a fire exit door to get in. For a minute, Molly was worried the flash and noise of unlocking it would attract attention, but no one came running to see what had happened. The only person they passed as they headed into the building barely glanced at them as the Doctor pulled out the psychic paper and explained, “Health and Safety.”

     When the man walked out of earshot, Molly asked the Doctor, “So, it said online that there's some kind of presentation today. We sneaking in as reporters?”

     “Nah, too obvious, and too many questions,” the Doctor replied. “we'll get a different view.” Without further explaining, he hurried along, forcing her to work to keep up.

     They made their way through the building with the psychic paper, then eventually reached the Doctor's destination – the projection booth overlooking the auditorium. There was a sharp-looking blond woman in a bun standing in front of a move theater screen displaying the Adipose logo, addressing attentive reporters sitting in the audience seats. “Adipose Industries,” she announced in a clipped tone, her smile tight and without warmth. “The 21st century way to lose weight. No exercise, no diet, no pain. Just lifelong freedom from fat. The Holy Grail of the modern age.” With a flourish, she held up a little pill for the reporters to see. Molly couldn't see it very well from the booth. 'And here it is. You just take one capsule, one capsule, once a day, for three weeks. And the fat, as they say..”

     She turned to look at the screen. The logo pulled further up on the screen as text appeared below it. A male voice read out the text: “The fat just walks away!”

     As the lights in the auditorium went up as the presentation ended, one reporter spoke up. “Excuse me, Miss Foster, if I could?” The blond woman, Ms. Foster, looked at the reporter with the same tight smile. “I'm Penny Carter, science correspondent for The Observer. There are a thousand diet pills on the market, a thousand con men stealing people's money. How do we know the fat isn't going straight into your bank account?”

     Ms. Foster gave a forced little chuckle. “Oh Penny, if cynicism burnt up calories, we'd all be as thin as rakes.” Molly blanched at how fake her cheerful tone sounded. “But if you want the science, I oblige.”

     The logo on the screen pulled out, to be replaced with a diagram of a human body. The earlier voice began to narrate. “Adipose Industries. The Adipose capsule is composed of a synthesised mobilising lipase, bound to a large protein molecule. The mobilising lipase breaks up the trigycerides stored in the adipose cells, which then enter...”

     The man working the projector had noticed the Doctor and Molly's arrival, and though he hadn't said anything, he was now openly staring at the Doctor. The Time Lord finally noticed, holding up his psychic paper for the man to see. “Health and Safety.” He seemed to realize how ridiculous that sounded for someone sneaking into a projector booth, as he added somewhat lamely, “Film department.”

     The explanation had ended, and Ms. Foster was looking at the reporter with a smug smirk. “100 percent legal, 100 percent effective,” she summed up.

     The reporter, Penny, asked, “But, can I just ask, how many people have taken the pills to date?”

     “We've already got one million customers within the Greater London area alone,” Ms. Foster answered promptly. “But from next week, we start rolling out nationwide.” She gave that queer smile of hers again. “The future starts here. And Britain will be thin.”

     Molly couldn't suppress a shudder. It had only been a hunch before with the ad, but now she was sure, something was definitely wrong here. The Doctor seemed to agree. His brow was crinkled as he said, “That was a load of rubbish. All that about synthesized liapses and trigycerides, there was nothing real to that, it was nonsense.”

     “She's lying,” Molly concluded grimly, ignoring the weirded-out stare of the projector man. “And we've got to stop her.

SCENEBREAK

     As they exited the building, Molly and the Doctor linked arms again, walking together down the street. “So, what's our next move?” Molly asked.

     “Well, we need to find out more about how this Adipose stuff works,” the Doctor replied, looking thoughtful. “And what's the best way to find out how a product works?”

     “Go to the customers,” Molly realized.

     The Time Lord grinned. “Precisely. So all we need's a list of customers, then go interview them ourselves, hear it straight from the source.”

     “What about Sherlock?” Molly asked. “He'll need us to pick him up in a few hours, and we can't leave him wandering around London, it's too dangerous.”

     “Time machine, remember?” the Doctor reminded her. “We'll just have to hop into the past and pick him up then.”

     Molly let out a light sigh, staring somberly at the throng of people passing them on the street. The Doctor looked at her with concern. “You alright?”

     She nodded. “Yeah. It's just... weird. You know, time travel, being able to go anywhere again. Jumping in and out of time however we want. I haven't had that in a long time.” She gave him a sad smile. “I had to walk the slow path, Doctor. A slow path on a dying Earth.” The companion turned to look back at the crowd. “Even this. Just watching people, normal, ordinary people, walking there, living their lives without any clue of how close they came to losing everything. Naive, and innocent. There wasn't any innocence on the Master's Earth.”

     The Doctor was staring at her with a sad expression, all of his years heavy in his eyes. The unspoken concern made Molly feel a little guilty about bringing it up at all, and either way, she wasn't sure she was ready to really talk about it. She pulled her arm away, pulling her coat in closer against the chilly air, and sped up her pace. “Come on, let's keep going.” Without a word, the Time Lord followed her.

SCENEBREAK

     They reached the call center for Adipose Industries, a series of cubicles with what seemed like every phone in the room ringing at once. They went toward one of the cubicles, where a woman was on the phone.

     The Doctor showed her the psychic paper, whispering, “John Smith and Molly Hooper, Health and Safety, don't mind us.” The woman, who's desk nameplate declared her to be “Clare,” had seemed annoyed when her call had been interrupted, but when she got a proper look at the Doctor, she grinned, gaze sizing him up appreciatively. Molly couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. Sure, the Doctor was attractive, but she hadn't thought of the Time Lord like that even from the start. After two years thinking of him as almost a brother, the woman's obvious admiration was a little odd.

     The Time Lord told Clare, “We're gonna need one of those pills for testing, make sure they're safe and all that.”

     Clare rummaged in her desk for a moment before pulling out a gold necklace chain, with a golden capsule for the pill connected to the chain. “It is made of 18 carat gold, and it's yours for free,” she said with a grin. Her smile faded as the person on the other end of the phone spoke. Irritated, she informed them, “No, we don't give away pens, sorry. No, I can't make an exception, no.”

     The Doctor took it with a grin. Molly spoke up for the first time, informing the woman, “Also, we'll need a list of anyone who's bought any of these.”

     Looking a little less eager to please her, Clare typed something into her computer, then nodded. “Just give me a sec, it'll be by the printer then.”

     The Doctor stood, looking over the walls of the cubicle. “That's the printer there?” he asked.

     “By the plant, yeah,” Clare confirmed.

     “Brilliant.” He sat again, leaning over to look at her computer as he asked, “Has it got paper?”

     Clare nodded. “Yeah, Jimbo keeps it stocked.

     Just as the Doctor and Molly were about to head over to the printer, Ms. Foster walked into the office, flanked by two goods. In her stiff, prim tone, she announced, “Excuse me, everyone, if I could have your attention.”

     The Doctor and his companion ducked quickly behind the walls of the cubicle. They peeked up to watch Ms. Foster glaring around at her employees, ducking whenever she looked back towards them. Her voice was cool and curt as she informed her employees, “On average, you're each selling forty Adipose packs per day. It's not enough. I want one hundred sales per person per day. And if not, you'll be replaced. Cos if anyone is good in trimming the fat, it's me.” Molly blinked at her harsh tone, so different from her tight politeness from before. “Now. Back to it.” With that, she turned and walked away.

     Molly let out a low whistle. Ms. Foster didn't mince words with people under her payroll. The Doctor stared after her for a moment, then turned back to Clare. “Anyway, if you could print that off. Thanks.”

     She nodded, turning to her computer and pulling up the list, then hitting the print button. “There you go, done.”

     “Thanks, then,” the Doctor said cheerfully. He started to stand, only for Clare to stop him by handing him a slip of paper. “Oh, what's that?”

     “My telephone number,” Clare told him with a flirtatious smile.

     His brow crinkled in confusion. “What for?”

     Clare raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Health and Safety. You be health, I be safety,” she purred. Molly let out a choked cough, thrown off by the blatant attempt to flirt with the Time Lord. The Doctor's eyes widened and he started to back away, rambling rapidly, “Aah. Aah. But. That contravenes ah, paragraph five, subsection C. Sorry.” He scurried away as fast as he could, Molly following, not sure whether to be uncomfortable or laugh at the Doctor's discomfort.

     When they reached the printer, however, there was nothing printed there. A little sheepish, the Doctor returned to Clare's cubicle, grinning awkwardly at her. “Me again.”

     Molly thought she saw a ginger woman glance furtively back at the printer before hurrying out the door, but she was gone before she could get a good look at her. _Ah well,_ she thought to herself, _it's probably nothing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Edited, I originally mixed up when the TARDIS is parked next to Donna's car
> 
> So, another chapter, and the first part in Partners in Crime! No Donna yet, except for that little tease at the end there, but hopefully by next chapter I'll be able to write the brilliant Donna Noble.
> 
> And yes, I've kicked Sherlock off-board for the episode, but this time I'm not being lazy! I am making sure Sherlock and Donna meet in a situation that isn't dangerous and rushed and everything hurrying along. No, they're going to meet and have a proper, drawn-out snark battle. Probably in an interlude after this episode.
> 
> Like I said, this episode will mostly stick to canon, though as you can see I threw in some conversations with Molly that didn't happen in the episode since the Doctor had no one to talk to.


	7. Partners in Crime: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and the Doctor investigate further at Adipose.

     By the time they got the list and got out, it was dark, nearly nightfall. It had gotten even colder outside; Molly was in dark pants and the same black leather jacket she'd worn during the Year, and though it was good for cold nights, it wasn't thick enough to block out the wind. She shivered, hugging her arms in close to keep herself warm as she asked, "So, who're we visiting first?"

     The Doctor looked at the list for a moment before deciding, "A Mr. Roger Davey, he's been taking the Adipose pills a good two weeks now, should be able to tell us how quickly this stuff works.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, not seeming at all bothered by the cold. Molly had noticed this quirk of his before – she assumed it was a Time Lord thing. “Doesn't live too far from here, we should be fine to walk.”

     Molly nodded, though she wasn't looking forward to a walk in the cold. “Right, let's get started then.” She and the Time Lord linked arms and started down the street.

     As they walked, the Doctor asked, “So, how do you think Sherlock's doing?”

     Molly chuckled. “Either fine or in trouble, knowing him. He's a bit like you in that. But he's too focused to get distracted by alien shenanigans like us.”

     The Doctor chuckled. “Oi, don't knock the alien shenanigans!” Molly laughed, feeling herself properly relax and enjoy herself for the first time in a long time. She grinned at the Time Lord, leaning against his shoulder for a moment as she laughed. She'd forgotten how comfortable she'd been with the Time Lord.

     After a few moments, a new thought occurred to her. She wasn't even really sure where it came from, but something had reminded her of it, something of the ease of laughing with the Doctor. “I met Sarah Jane Smith during the Year,” she told him quietly.

     The Time Lord's expression sobered, something like fear or sadness, and a hint of nostalgia, glinting in his eyes. “Really? How'd that go?”

     “She survived the first wave of Toclafane, and she was heading one of the slave headquarters, keeping everyone together and safe, and keeping people in line,” she told him. “She helped us sneak in and spread the news about you, and she gave us a ton of supplies. She was very brave – is, I mean. I'm not sure what happened to her after that, but I guess since the Year never really happened it doesn't matter anyway.” Molly looked curiously at her friend. “After meeting her, I've just been wondering, about who else you've traveled with.”

     The Doctor shrugged. “There's been a lot of them,” was all he said.

     Molly rolled her eyes at the dodge – so typical of any conversation even slightly personal. “That's helpful,” she said sarcastically. She grew quiet, tone softer as she asked, “Do you ever go back?” The Doctor looked at her curiously. “After they've, I dunno, left, or moved on, or get left behind. Do you ever visit, or just try to find out where they went in life?”

     Now there was definitely sadness in the Doctor's eyes, and a small amount of fear. He was quiet for a few moments, saying in a low tone. “No.” Then he shook his head, grinning again, the expression seeming fake and empty. “Nah, where's the fun in going back? You gotta keep moving forward.”

     Molly looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. She remembered what he'd said about looking into the Time Vortex as a kid. “ _Oh, the ones that ran away! I never stopped._ ” He was still running now, moving on because looking back was too painful. That had been something she'd been sympathetic of before, but now it was something she could understand. She had her own demons now, her own painful memories. She hadn't realized it before, but she was running too.

     But she had someone to run with.

     She grinned at the Time Lord, suddenly very glad to have him at her side. “Come on then. Roger Davey awaits!”

     “Hold on,” the Doctor told her. “There's something I need to grab from the TARDIS first. Something to track any signals the pills might be giving off.”

SCENEBREAK

     Roger Davies was a stocky man, but by no means overweight. Molly wondered warily whether that was a testament to the power of Adipose or just how he'd started.

     When the Doctor and Molly reached the house and knocked on the door, he opened it warily, staring at them with confusion. The Doctor grinned easily at him, Molly following suit. “Mister Roger Davey?” he questioned. Roger nodded cautiously, and the Doctor flashed the psychic paper. “I'm calling on behalf of Adipose Industries. Just need to ask you a few questions.”

     Still seeming a bit confused, Roger let them into the house. He led them into the living room, where he sat on one of the chairs. Molly sat on the couch, but the Doctor stayed standing, pacing thoughtfully. “I've been on the pills for two weeks now,” he told them with a satisfied smile. “I've lost fourteen kilos.”

     “That's the same amount every day?” the Doctor asked.

     Roger nodded. “One kilo exactly. You wake up, and it's disappeared overnight.” He hesitated, brow furrowing. “Well, technically speaking, it's gone by ten past one in the morning.”

     Molly frowned. “That's pretty specific, Mr. Davey,” she pointed out. “Where'd you get that time from?”

     “That's when I get woken up.” he answered, looking slightly irritated. “Might as well weigh myself at the same time. It is driving me mad. Ten minutes past one, every night, bang on the dot without fail, the burglar alarm goes off.”

     Molly and the Doctor shared a confused glance. That wasn't what they'd expected. “You're saying someone's breaking in every night?” the companion asked with concern.

     Roger shook his head. “No, nothing's ever taken.”

     “Mr. Davey,” the Doctor cut in, “can we see this alarm then?” His brow was furrowed thoughtfully, his pacing paused as he waited for an answer.

     The man hesitated, then shrugged. “Sure, why not?” He stood, starting towards the door. “Come on, I'll show you.”

     Roger led them out the front door, pointing up to the red alarm control panel above the door. “I've had experts in, I've had it replaced, I've even phoned Watchdog. But no, ten past one in the morning, off it goes.”

     “But with no burglars?” the Doctor repeated.

     He shook his head. “Nothing,” he repeated irritably. “I've given up looking.”

     Molly stared at the alarm, dumbfounded. “Has it been tampered with or something?” she wondered aloud.

     Roger shrugged. Looking thoughtful, the Doctor turned to him and asked, “Tell me, Roger. Have you got a cat flap?”

     The man nodded, looking confused. “Yeah, er, around this way.”

     He went through the front door again, leaving the Doctor and Molly to follow him. As they did, Molly asked in a low voice, “Got any ideas?”

     “Maybe,” was all he'd say.

     Roger showed them the back door, which had a cat flap. They all leaned down to get a look at it, the Doctor poking it open with his sonic screwdriver and peering curiously out. “It was here when I bought the house,” Roger explained. “I've never bothered with it, really. I'm not a cat person.”

     “No, I've met cat people,” the Doctor remarked distractedly. “You're nothing like them.” Molly snorted at the reference to Nurse Hame on New Earth, but Roger looked at her oddly, so she held back further laughter, trying to keep a straight face.

     “It's that what it is, though?” Roger asked. “Cats getting inside the house?”

     The Doctor peered out the cat flap, eyes narrowed. “Well, thing about cat flaps is, they don't just let things in, they let things out as well.”

     Molly finally realized what the Doctor was getting at. “Wait, you don't mean...?”

     The Time Lord looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “'The fat just walks away,'” he quoted.

SCENEBREAK

     As they said their goodbyes, the Doctor shook Roger's hand, saying with a grin, “Well, thanks for your help. Tell you what, maybe you could lay off the pills for a week or so.”

     “Yeah, it'll help with testing reactions and such,” Molly added. “You've been very helpful, Mr. Davey.”

     “Thanks, I'm just glad I could help,” Roger assured them.

     Suddenly, the Doctor's device he'd picked up from the TARDIS began beeping rapidly. Molly still wasn't sure what it was, the Doctor's rambling explanation had kind of flown over her head, but she got that it meant something was happening with Adipose.

     The Doctor looked at it for a moment, then started for the door. “Oh, got to go, sorry. Come on, Molly.” She followed him as he pushed past the door, breaking into a run as he followed the signal on the beeping device.

     They ran through the streets of London in the dark, occasionally having to halt and figure out which alley to take, or to smack the device to get it working. As they turned down one street, they nearly got run over by a black van with tinted windows and flashing lights. As it passed, the beeping on the device grew more rapid. The Doctor's eyes widened. “Come on, we've got to catch that van!”

     They bolted after it, but it turned a corner down an alley. As they followed it, the beeping slowed, and the van was nowhere in sight. The Doctor halted, glaring at the device with a frustrated growl. “It's gone.”

     Molly wasn't out of breath or too tired from the run, which didn't really surprise her at this point. She'd learned to keep up with the Doctor not long after being brought on board. She looked at the device he was holding curiously. “What is that? What exactly were we chasing?”

     “Biochemical signal,” the Doctor answered. “One of those pills must've sent it out. That van must've been there for a pick-up job.”

     “A pick-up job... of fat?” Molly asked dubiously. “The fat literally walked away, and they've got secret teams going 'round and picking them up off the streets? Why? What's the point?”

     “Dunno,” the Doctor answered, “but it's definitely alien. There's no way human technology's at this stage yet. Nice call, Molly.”

     The companion frowned. “It seems to work as a diet plan, though. Do you think it's malevolent?”

     The Time Lord shrugged. “Only one way to find out,” he answered. “We gotta get back into Adipose Industries.”

SCENEBREAK

     That, however, was a quest for another day. The Doctor insisted on them getting back to the TARDIS and getting some sleep, clearly for Molly's benefit. She wondered a little irritably when he was going to stop coddling her because of her concussion,but she had to admit it'd been a long day, and it wouldn't be a bad idea to rest up before sneaking into Adipose again.

     She woke up several hours later, room still blissfully dark. Molly was one of those people who woke easily when it got light in a room, so the lack of windows or outer light slipping into her room in her TARDIS room was a serious bonus. She got changed, the same black leather jacket from before and a lighter green shirt under it, then headed out into the hall.

     When she reached the console room, the Doctor was already up, as always. He was leaning over the console, looking at the pill capsule with a magnifying glass. His eyes widened at what he saw, and he grinned widely. “Oh, fascinating. Seems to be a bio-flip digital stitch, specifically for converting human tissue, well fat, into different organic material.” He looked up at Molly with an eager grin. “It sends out a signal whenever the conversion is made.”

     Molly chuckled at his childish excitement. “So that's what we were chasing. But what's the fat being converted into?”

     The Doctor shrugged. “Dunno. Bet that Foster woman could tell us though.”

     “Probably. So, back to Adipose Industries then?” the companion questioned.

     “Right!” The Doctor put the capsule back in his pocket, then started up the flight sequence, darting around the console. Molly helped, flipping up the few switches and levers she knew, and sending the TARDIS into the usual shudders. They'd been in the Time Vortex all night, but now the Doctor was sending them back to London modern day, the day after their chase after the truck. As the TARDIS stilled, Molly saw on the monitor that they had landed just outside Adipose Industries, around the back door they'd snuck in before.

     They got in the same way again, the Doctor sonicing the door open in a flash of sparks and a bang. The travelers slipped quickly into the building, thankfully managing to avoid any employees walking down the halls. As they made their way down the hall, the Doctor slipped to the side, beckoning for Molly to follow him. After glancing furtively around the hall, he soniced open the door to a storage closet, slipping quickly inside. Once both he and Molly were inside, he re-locked the door.

     Molly looked around at the closet with a wrinkled nose. “Bit cramped in here.” There was barely enough room for the two of them to move around. Molly compromised by sitting on a bucket in the corner. “What're we in here for?”

     The Doctor headed to the wall, pulling aside a panel to reveal a large, green machine, almost looking like the back of an old-fashioned computer. The Time Lord grinned appreciatively, pulling out his sonic screwdriver. “Back-up system. I should be able to hack into the main computers from here, see what our friend Ms. Foster's been up to.” He scanned the machine quickly, frowning at what he found. “Hmm. Deadlocked.” He tried again, brow furrowing further. “Er, make that double, no, triple deadlocked. Well.” He leaned back, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “That's, er... that's gonna take a while.”

     “But you can break in, right?” Molly asked.

     He gave a little shrug. “Yes? Maybe? No? Well, I can try anyway. At least 'til the place closes and we can try to access the actual computers. Maybe check out her office, see if there's anything we can use to get into her files.”

     Molly's eyebrows flew up. “So, we're stuck here 'til the place closes? That's not for another nine hours.”

     “Yep,” was all the Doctor said.

     Molly leaned back against the wall, letting out a low whistle. Nine hours, a task she couldn't help with, and only a phone on hand, though luckily it had internet. Oh yeah. This was going to go great.

SCENEBREAK

     Luckily, the Doctor liked to talk as he worked, and any silences were filled by flipping through her phone. The two joked and talked, and the nine hours passed fairly quickly. Still, Molly was sitting the entire time, and was very grateful when 6:15 rolled around any they were able to get out of the closet. As the Doctor looked around furtively for anyone walking nearby, she stretched out her exceedingly stiff limbs. “Urgh, remind me to never sit in a closet for nine hours ever again,” she grumbled.

     The Time Lord looked around one last time, then started off down a hallway. “Come on, let's get moving.” Molly finished stretching out her leg and followed him, wondering where he was leading her.

     The answer turned out to be, onto the roof. As he pushed past the final door, she felt a burst of cool air, and she saw the gravel of the roof and the starry sky. “What're we doing out here?” she asked. “I thought we were going to Foster's office.”

     “We are,” the Doctor confirmed. “There's a mechanic lift out here that can drop us down to the window leading into her office, I saw it on our way in.”

     Molly wasn't surprised he'd managed to figure out which of the hundreds of windows was Foster's office, what with his Time Lord brain and all. “We couldn't have just reached her office from inside?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

     “Nah, could've been spotted by someone still inside,” the Doctor reasoned. “Besides,” he asked with a grin, “where's the fun in that?”

     The companion chuckled. “You're right,” she admitted. Grinning, he offered his hand, which she took, and led her to the ladder leading to the lift.

     The Time Lord used the sonic screwdriver to move the lift down, until it was level with Foster's window. They peered in eagerly, the Doctor ready to try to sonic it open, but both travelers ducked down out of view as Foster, the reporter Penny, and two other men walked into the office. They waited, ducked down, uncertain of whether they'd be seen or not if they popped up. The Doctor pulled a stethoscope and put it against the wall, listening for voices inside. He offered one earbud to Molly, which she took, forcing them to keep their heads together with the earbuds stretched around both their heads.

     Molly was able to make out Penny's outraged voice. “What sort of a country do you think this is?” she demanded. From the way the two men had dragged her inside and her status as a reporter, Molly guessed she'd been investigating Adipose and Foster had caught her and dragged her in here to confront her about it.

     “Oh, it's a beautifully fat country,” Foster replied in a remarkably calm, collected tone. “And believe me, I've traveled a long way to find obesity on this scale.”

     “So, come on then, Miss Foster,” Penny pressed, “those pills. What are they?”

     “Well, you might just as well have a scoop, since you'll never see it printed.” Molly shuddered at the implications of that. “This is the spark of life.” Molly assumed she was referring to one of the pills.

     “And what's that supposed to mean?” Penny asked, unimpressed.

     In a clipped, formal tone, Foster explained, “Officially, the capsule attracts all the fat cells and flushes them away. Well, it certainly attracts them. That part's true. But it binds the fat together and galvanises it to form a body.” Molly froze. They had been write. The fat had literally walked away.

     Penny, however, had no such foreknowledge. “What do you mean, a body?” she asked dubiously.

     Foster's voice grew more smug. “I am surprised you never asked about my name. I chose it well. Foster. As in foster mother. And these are my children.”

     Molly couldn't stay back anymore. Putting a hand on the Doctor's shoulder to let him know to stay down, she lifted her head cautiously and peeked through the window. Foster had Penny tied to a chair, with two guards standing behind her, and on her desk was a small, oddly cute creature that appeared to made of fat.

     Penny stared at it with evident disgust. “You're kidding me. What the hell is that?”

     Foster smiled, the expression looking dangerous and predatory. “An Adipose,” she said almost fondly. Molly was distracted by a face peeking in from the door to the office. Molly ducked down before she could be seen.

     “There's someone else out there,” she hissed to the Doctor.

     “Who?”

     “Dunno,” she replied. “But I think it was the same woman I saw at the call center. Some ginger lady I saw, looked like she was sneaking around too. Maybe another reporter?”

     The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “Better take a look then.” He looked up cautiously, freezing in shock as he saw the woman Molly had indicated. She was surprised to see recognition in the Doctor's eyes. The Time Lord gaped at the window, speaking a name Molly had heard before, one he had told her, one of a person she had never expected to meet.

     “Donna?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, a wild Donna appears! Of course, I leave it on a cliffhanger (yeah no not really since you've all seen the episode) but next time I will finally, *finally*, be able to write Donna. *pumps fist*
> 
> Right, so, again, more Molly and Doctor filler moments. Sorry for choosing Sarah Jane Smith to mention rather than another, less visited Classic companion, but again, I have never seen Classic Who, and I'd never be able to do any of the other companions justice as I don't really know much about them.


	8. Partners in Crime: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is reunited with Donna.

     There was an old Earth saying; “God works in mysterious ways.” While the Doctor was not a believer in the Abrahamic God, the phrase worked well to describe the universe. He'd been subject to the universe's mysterious ways too many times to count, and in his seven hundred years of travel through time and space, he'd run into every coincidence, paradox, and strange occurrence the universe could possibly throw at him. He'd learned to stop being surprised or overwhelmed a long time ago. The universe just seemed to have it out for him.

     But every once in a while, something came around that still managed to surprise him.

     “Donna?!”

     He was still trying to wrap his mind around it. Donna Noble, the temp from Chiswick, the loud, brash woman who'd snapped some sense into him after losing Rose, the woman who could've been a great companion. Who'd chosen to stay on Earth. The one he never thought he'd see again. And now here she was, looking just as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

     “ _Doctor?_ ” she mouthed from the window across the room, staring at him in clear shock.

     He gaped helplessly, for once entirely lost for words. Molly peeked up again, trying to get a look at Donna, but the Doctor put a hand on her shoulder, asking her to stay down. Two of them would be more noticeable than one.

     Donna's shocked expression changed into a huge, excited grin. “ _Doctor!_ ”

     All the Time Lord could manage was, “But what? What?” Donna continued to grin at him, clearly bursting with excitement. “What?”

     The ginger woman gasped out, “ _Oh my god!_ ”

     She continued to grin as the Doctor continued to gape, unable to figure out how this had happened. “But how...?”

     “ _It's me!_ ” Donna mouthed, grinning and gesturing excitedly to herself.

     The Doctor's thoughts were still in order enough for him to be offended. “ _I can see that,_ ” he mouthed and gestured, a little offended she didn't think he'd remember her. Time Lord brain, he never forgot a face.

     “ _Oh, this is brilliant!_ ” the ginger woman gushed.

     The Time Lord finally got his thoughts together enough to ask, “ _What the hell are you doing there?_ ”

     “ _I was looking for you._ ”

     The Doctor blinked. Why would she be looking for him? She hadn't wanted to go with him last time. _“That place was flooding and burning and they were dying, and you were stood there like, I don't know, a stranger. And then you made it snow. I mean, you scare me to death.”_ That had haunted him for a while. The loss of Rose had made him darker, more dangerous, and he hadn't realized it until Donna shoved it in his face. Loss and loneliness brought out the worst in him. He wouldn't have realized, would've gotten a lot worse if Donna hadn't rejected him like that. She'd seen him for what he really was. Why would she come looking for him?

     “ _What for?_ ” he mouthed back.

     “ _I read it on the internet,_ ” Donna explained, gesturing wildly. The Doctor nodded to show he understood. “ _Weird. Crept along. Heard them talking. Hid. You -_ ” She had started to gesture to Ms. Foster and her prisoner, but froze, staring at them in shock. As the Doctor turned to look at them, he understood why.

     Foster was staring at the Time Lord and human with a raised eyebrow, looking from one to the other. “Are we interrupting you?” she asked pointedly.

     Well, so much for hiding. “ _Run!_ ” the Doctor warned Donna, then he turned to Molly. “We've been spotted.” He used his sonic screwdriver to start the lift up again, bringing them back up to the roof.

     “But what about that woman?” Molly asked as the lift rose. “Who was she?”

     “An old friend,” the Doctor explained distractedly. “Well, sort of, I'll tell you later.” The lift reached the roof, jerking slightly as it stopped. The Time Lord hopped out, helping pull Molly out, then took off at a run towards the door leading back inside.

     Looks like it was time to reunite with an old friend.

SCENEBREAK

     As Molly followed the Doctor, she wondered about this woman, this Donna. Hadn't he mentioned meeting a Donna after losing Rose? But he said she'd stayed on Earth. What was she doing here now?

     As they bolted down the hallway and towards a stairwell, they ran right into Donna, who was running from the other direction. The ginger woman let out a delighted laugh, pulling the Time Lord into a tight hug, which he returned with a grin. Molly had been tensed, uncertain whether to trust the woman who'd seemed to turn up out of nowhere, but the Doctor's grin relaxed her. He seemed to trust Donna. She shook her head a little. _Snap out of it, you don't need to be suspicious of everyone anymore._

     The ginger woman pulled back, looking the Time Lord up and down with visible excitement. “Oh, my God. I don't believe it. You've even got the same suit!” She paused, giving the outfit an evaluating glance. “Don't you ever change?” she asked somewhat critically.

     “Yeah, thanks, Donna. Not right now,” the Time Lord said distractedly.

     The ginger woman seemed to finally notice Molly. A bit of her confidence faded; for a moment, she looked uncertain. “Ah, found a friend have you?”

     Molly opened her mouth to introduce herself, but was interrupted by the sound of guards coming up the stairs after them. The Doctor grabbed her hand, pulling her back up the stairs, and the companion grabbed Donna's hand an pulled her along. “Molly Hooper,” she introduced herself as she ran, laughing slightly. Of course she'd meet one of the Doctor's old friends on the run, literally.

     “Donna Noble,” the ginger woman replied. “Nice to meet you.”

     “Likewise,” Molly laughed. As they came out the door back onto the roof, she asked Donna, “So, what're you doing here?”

     She gestured to the Doctor. “Looking for alien boy over there. Hoped he might turn up here.” Donna turned to the Doctor, who was sonicing the door shut, as she explained, “Because I thought, how do you find the Doctor? And then I just thought, look for trouble and then he'll turn up. So I looked everywhere. You name it. UFOs, sightings, crop circles, sea monsters. I looked, I found them all. Like that stuff about the bees disappearing, I thought, I bet he's connected.” Once the door was locked, the Doctor ran for the lift, the two women following him. “Because the thing is, Doctor, I believe it all now. You opened my eyes. All those amazing things out there, I believe them all.”

     Molly chuckled. “Yeah, the Doctor'll do that to you,” she agreed. Now that the suspicion had faded, she found herself curious. Here was a rare and glorious opportunity to meet someone from the Doctor's past.

     “You're telling me” the ginger woman chuckled. She looked at Molly, looking as curious as the companion felt. “How'd you meet him, anyhow?”

     “I'm a pathologist,” Molly explained. “I was working in a hospital, and it sorta ended up on the moon.” Donna blinked at her. “Long story, but he was there.”

     The Time Lord stepped onto the lift, turning back to the two women. “In you get!”

     Molly started to step in, but Donna hung back, glancing at the lift critically. “What, in that thing?”

     “Yes in that thing,” the Doctor repeated a little irritably.

     “But if we go down in that, they'll just call us back up again,” Donna argued.

     The Time Lord shook his head impatiently. “No, no, no, because I've locked the controls with a sonic cage,” he assured her. “I'm the only one that can control it. Not unless she's got a sonic device of her own, which is very unlikely.”

     Molly, who still only had one leg in the lift, turn to Donna and offered her a hand. “Come on Donna, it's fine.” The woman hesitated, then took the offered hand and allowed Molly to help her into the lift.

     As the lift began to go down, Molly turned to Donna. “What about you?” she asked. “How'd you meet the Doctor? He told me a bit about it, but I never got to hear the whole story.”

     Before Donna could reply, the lift suddenly sped up, getting faster and faster until it was hurtling towards the ground. "What's happening?" Molly cried out.

     The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver, forcing the lift to stop. The all tumbled to the floor of the lift as it jerked to a halt, but the Time Lord was back on his feet in a moment. He stared up towards the roof, eyebrows raised incredulously. "Must have another sonic device. Oh come on, that's just not fair." He pouted almost childishly for a moment, then turned to the building. They'd stopped right beside a window; the Doctor started on it with his sonic screwdriver. "Let's try to get through here."

     "Quickly," Molly urged, "before Foster tries to drop us again." The Doctor nodded to show he'd heard, still focused on the window.

     After a few moments, he let out a frustrated growl. "Can't get it open!"

     Donna looked around for a moment before picking up a discarded wrench. "Well smash it then!" As the Doctor continued with the sonic, she started whacking the glass with the wrench, to no effect.

     Molly, too far from the window to contribute, instead kept watch. She saw what Foster was going to do a moment before it happened. "Doctor, watch out!"

     Foster had cut the cable; as it snapped, the left half of the lift fell, causing it to dangle sideways. The Doctor and Molly had been able to keep a grip on the lift, but Donna was sent falling, saved from a painful death many feet below by grabbing onto the cable, dangling desperately by the strentgh of her arms alone.

     “Doctor!” she called out desperately. Molly was clinging to the railing of the lift, unable to get to her to help.

     “Hold on!” the Doctor ordered.

     “I am!” Donna called back irritably.

     He held his sonic screwdriver up, pointing it at the roof. Foster jerked back suddenly, something flying from her hand. As it fell towards them, Molly saw that it was a sonic... pen? The Doctor deftly caught it, then used it combined with the sonic screwdriver to finally open the window.

     “This is all your fault!” Donna shouted up at him, irritable even through her fear. Molly was starting to see how she could've been good for a Doctor caught up in his grief. “I should've stayed at home!”

     The Doctor slid the window open, slipping through. “I won't be a minute!!” he called out to the two women. Molly looked down at Donna dangling, then slowly released one hand's grip on the lift. She began to maneuver herself so she was facing the ground, one leg wrapped around the railing to keep herself up. The companion reached for the cable, her fingers just able to wrap around the coarse wire. “Hold on Donna, I'm gonna pull you up!”

     “Well hurry it up!” Donna snapped. Molly ignored it, knowing full well how snappy fear made someone. Instead, she put her focus into grabbing the cable and struggling to pull it up. It was heavy, not to mention the added weight of Donna, but both TARDIS life and the Year had made her stronger. Not with a struggle, she was finally able to pull the ginger woman up into the lift.

     Donna kicked off her heels, sending them plummeting towards the ground below, then grabbed onto the railing, using her hands and feet to pull herself up. "This is completely mad," she grumbled as she clambered clumsily up. The Doctor, who'd seemed to peg onto Molly's plan, was up the window he'd climbed into, waiting to help pull Donna inside.

     Once the ginger woman was safe, Molly began to turn herself back around, pulling herself quickly up the lift's railing until she was high enough to reach the window. The Doctor leaned out and grabbed her torso, pulling her through the window. She slithered gracelessly to the floor, panting from the effort.

     Donna was also on the ground, glaring at the Doctor. "I was right," she grumbled after she got her breath back. "It's always like this with you, innit?"

     The Time Lord grinned. "Oh yes!" He helped both women to her feet, then, after giving them a moment to catch their breath, took off for the door. Still tired from her rescue of Donna, Molly followed, the ginger woman right on their heels, grinning despite her earlier snark.

     They soon made it back to the call centre, but their way was blocked by Foster and her two guards. The group slowed to a halt, staring warily at Foster. There was a tense silence as both groups sized each other up.

     Foster coolly evaluated them, taking her glasses off. "Well then," she said crisply, "at last."

     Molly inclined her head slightly, narrowed gaze focused on Foster. "Likewise," she said coolly.

     The Doctor grinned easily, the friendly, harmless front he always showed to their enemies. "Nice to meet you, I'm the Doctor," he said cheerfully.

     "And I'm Donna," the ginger woman put in, "and that's Molly."

     "Partners in crime," Foster observed primly. "And evidently off-worlders, judging by your sonic technology."

     "Oh yes, I've still got your sonic pen." The Doctor pulled it out, staring at it contemplatively. "Nice, I like it. Sleek, it's kinda sleek."

     He showed it to the two women. Donna nodded, agreeing, "Oh it's definitely sleek."

     Molly assessed it coolly. "Eh, call me old-fashioned, but I prefer the screwdriver," she quipped.

     "Yeah, and if you were to sign your real name that would be...?" the Doctor prompted.

     Foster stared at them evenly for a moment before replying, "Matron Cofelia of the Five-Straighten Classabindi Nursery Fleet. Intergalactic Class."

     The Doctor's eyebrows raised. "A wet nurse," he realized with interest, "using humans as surrogates."

     Foster's lips twitched slightly into a smug smile. "I've been employed by the Adiposian First Family to foster a new generation after their breeding planet was lost," she explained.

     The Doctor's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean lost?" he repeated, baffled. "How do you lose a planet?"

     Foster shrugged dismissively. "Oh, politics are none of my concern. I'm just here to take care of the children on behalf of the parents."

     "What, like an outer space super-nanny?" Donna asked dubiously.

     "Yes, if you like," Foster allowed, sounding amused at the analogy.

     "So... so those little things they're, they're made out of fat yeah," the ginger woman said slowly, working it out, "but that woman, Stacy Campbell, there was nothing left of her."

     "Oh, in a crisis the Adipose can convert bone and hair and internal organs," Foster informed her matter-of-factly, as though they were talking about the weather. Not the murder of a woman. "Makes them a little bit sick, poor things," she added sympathetically.

     Donna gaped at her. "What about poor Stacy?" she asked incredulously.

     "That was murder," Molly told Foster coldly. "She didn't have to die!"

     "Oh, hardly murder, Molly," Foster corrected her with a smirk. “Your species is hardly evolved enough for it to be called that. No, at best it's an inconvenience. Like stepping on an ant in your path.”

     Molly felt a flash of rage, but before she could say anything else, the Doctor cut her off. “Seeding a level five planet is against galactic law,” he reminded Foster firmly.

     The matron tipped her head slightly, regarding the Doctor with amusement. “Are you threatening me?”

     “I'm trying to help you, Matron,” the Doctor corrected gently, eyes dark with warning. “This is your one chance, because if you don't call this off, then I'll have to stop you.”

     “You see, Matron,” Molly added firmly, “we have no problem with alien children trying for a chance at life. We're all for that. What we don't appreciate is you stealing the lives of innocent people to make that happen. This world, and others like it, are under our protection. So either you take your children to a planet where they can't do any harm, or we'll have to make you.”

     “Very noble of you,” the matron said mockingly. “You think you can stop me. But you know, I hardly think you can stop bullets.” The two guards raised their guns, pointing them stoically at the Doctor and his friends.

     The Doctor held up his hands hastily, stammering out, “No, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on. One more thing, before dying.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver, the sonic pen still in his other hand. Holding them carelessly, he asked, “Do you know what happens if you hold two identical sonic devices against each other?”

     Foster paused, a muscle in her face twitching. “No,” she admitted.

     “Nor me,” the Doctor said with a slightly manic grin. “Let's find out.”

     Without warning, he put the two together, turning them both on. A horrible screech emitted from them, reminding Molly of Manhattan. She flinched from the sound, but she was practiced enough to keep herself from slamming her hands to her ears. The companion grabbed Donna's hand, pulling her away towards the door. The Doctor rejoined them a few moments later, leading them back out into the stairwell.

     They had gotten away; but now they had to stop Foster's plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, another chapter! And there's gonna be one more part to this episode. Can't say it'll be a spectacularly long chapter, but whatever. Then, after that, Donna and Sherlock meeting! :D
> 
> Yay, I finally got to write Donna! I'll get to more snark with her soon, I hope. It's interesting writing her with Molly, and you'll see more of it later.


	9. Partners in Crime: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor, Donna, and Molly try to figure out how to stop Ms. Foster.

     The Doctor led his companion and Donna back to the storage closet from earlier. As he used his sonic to get it unlocked and led them inside, Donna noted, "Well, that's one solution. Hide in a cupboard. I like it."

     He turned and locked the door behind them, then squeezed past Molly and Donna to get to the panel from before. It had been bad enough with two people inside before, but now with three, it was positively cramped. He pulled back the panel to reveal the machine, explaining to Donna, "I've been hacking into this thing all day, 'cos the matron's got a computer core running through the center of the building. Triple deadlocked. But now I've got this," he held up the sonic pen to demonstrate, "I can get into it."

     Moll groaned. "Nine hours we were in here," she told Donna. "Sitting the whole time. My legs were dead to the world by then." The ginger woman let out a snort of amusement. The Doctor was glad to see them getting along, though he could tell Molly was still a little suspicious of her, which worried him. The old Molly wouldn't be suspicious or mistrusting, certainly not on principle. He had wondered before if her odd behavior was due to her concussion, but it had been weeks, the effects of that had long worn off. No, whatever was wrong with Molly was the result of something else.

     However, there wasn't time to focus on that now. The Time Lord turned his attention back to the machine, using both sonics to finally hack into the software. As he worked, he noticed Donna assessing him and Molly with something like nervousness. "Glad to see you found someone the," she commented lightly.

     The Doctor nodded. "Yeah, Molly's brilliant." His companion smiled slightly at the praise. "Saved my skin more than once."

     Donna snorted. "I can believe that." She turned to Molly. "This lump was useless when I met him. Moping and gaping like an idiot, nearly got killed trying to prove himself clever. Can't believe he's lasted this long."

     "Yeah, he definitely has a talent for getting into trouble," Molly agreed with a chuckle.

     The Doctor was beginning to feel like he was being ganged up on, so he decided to change the subject. "What about you, Donna? I thought you were gonna travel the world."

     The temp shook her head. "Easier said then done," she told him ruefully. "It's like I had that one day with you and I was gonna change. I was gonna do so much. Then I woke up next morning, same old life. It's like you were never there. And I tried. I did try, I went to Egypt. I was gonna go barefoot and everything. And then it's all bus trips and guidebooks and don't drink the water and two weeks later you're back home. It's nothing like being with you." She sighed. "I must have been mad turning down that offer."

     Caught up in his work with the machine, all he could manage was a distracted, "What offer?"

     "To come with you."

     "Come with me?" he repeated distractedly.

      Apparently, Donna had taken that as an invitation, not a confused repeat. She let out a delighted squeal, and, even in the cramped closet, managed to pull him into a fierce hug. "Oh yes, please!" she cried, leaving the Doctor feeling slightly overwhelmed and very confused. Molly looked on with bemusement.

     The Doctor let out a weak, "Right." He really wasn't sure how he'd gotten himself into this. Yes, he had offered to let Donna come on board before, and he thought she'd make a brilliant companion, but now it wasn't just him. Molly and Sherlock had made the TARDIS their home, admittedly temporarily in the latter's case, and it wouldn't be fair of him to invite someone on board without consulting them. Normally if he brought a second companion on board, it was someone the first companion knew, like with Mickey and Rose. He'd never had companions who didn't know each other before. How would that work?

     He was mostly worried about Molly. Yes, Sherlock would be snarky and unpleasant to whoever walked through the doors, but he knew Donna was more than capable of dealing with him. Molly, on the other hand, had been very suspicious lately. She'd distrusted Donna when they'd first met, and she would've slugged Slade if given half the chance. Donna was great, but Molly was his companion, and his first concern. He didn't want to bring anyone on board if it would only make her more stressed and suspicious.

     Suddenly, the machine began beeping rapidly. The Doctor pulled back from Donna and turned to it, eyes widening as a computerized voice informed him, " _Inducer activated._ "

     "What does that mean?" Molly asked worriedly.

     "She's started the program," the Doctor realized, focused on the machine. "Started a massive-scale conversion, everyone at once. We must've forced her into action." He glared wildly at the machine, fiddling and using his sonic, desperate to somehow stop what he knew had already started. Out there, all around the country, the unsuspecting customers of Adipose Industries were watching little creatures of fat walk away from their bodies. "So far they're just losing weight, but the Matron has gone up to emergency pathogenesis."

     Donna let out a slight gasp as she understood. "That's when they convert -"

     "Skeletons, organs, everything," the Doctor finished grimly. "A million people are gonna die!" He stuck a hand in his pocket, rummaging for what he knew he needed. "Gotta cancel the signal!" With a triumphant grin, he pulled out the golden capsule with the pill inside. There was a computer chip on the end; he pulled it off and showed it to Molly and Donna. "This contains the primary signal. If I can switch it off the fat goes back to being just fat." He connected it to the machine and hacked into the signal with his sonic, discontinuing it.

     For a moment, it seemed like they were safe. Then the machine began beeping again, more rapidly, and what was displayed on the monitor made the Doctor's hearts freeze in fear. “No, no, no, no, no!” he cried desperately, giving the machine a frustrated whack. “She's doubled it. I need...” he trailed off, mind racing, hearts pounding, searching for some way, any way, to save them. Running a hand through his hair, he knew, knew it was too late, knew there wasn't enough time, knew he had failed. “Haven't got time,” he said hoarsely. “It's too far. I can't override it. They're all gonna die!”

     Molly looked at him with wide eyes. “Doctor, calm down,” she said shakily, “there's gotta be something we can do.”

     The Doctor shook his head. “There's nothing, Molly, no time to do anything. Got to double the base pulse, I can't -”

     “Doctor, tell me,” Donna cut him off. “What do you need?”

     The Time Lord felt a burst of frustration. Donna was just trying to help, but there was nothing she could do, nothing, and nagging him wasn't going to change that. “I need a second capsule to boost the override,” he explained, “but I've only got the one. I can't save them.”

     He turned back to look at her, only to see she'd pulled out a second capsule, identical to the first. For a moment, all he could do was stare at her, speechless. He could see Molly doing the same, equally shocked at the wonderful foresight that had saved them. Then he broke out into a huge grin. He took the capsule, plugging the chip quickly into the machine, and using the sonics to block the signal. The inducer shut down, the signal cut off, and the Doctor knew it was over. He scrolled quickly through the results, hit by a wave of relief as he realized no one had died. Scared, disoriented, and seriously de-weighted, but all still alive. Donna had saved them.

     “They're alive,” he laughed, the joy suddenly catching up with him. He turned and pulled Donna into a tight hug, his other arm reaching and pulling Molly in as well, needing to celebrate, to know that they had saved everyone, that everyone had lived. He needed more days like this. The two women hugged him back fiercely, everyone glad to be alive, giddy with the knowledge that almost everyone had lived.

     Suddenly, there was the low rumble of an engine outside. Donna pulled back, startled. “What the hell was that?”

     “I think that's the Adipose's ride home,” the Doctor realized.

     Donna's eyes widened in realization. “Fine,” she breathed. “When you say nursery you don't mean a crèche in Notting Hill.”

     “Nursery _ship_ ,” the Doctor corrected.

     Before they could discuss it further, the machine powered up again, a message displayed on the monitor. The Doctor looked at it curiously, his interest sharpening as he read. Donna, however, didn't seem to see the need to stop. “Hadn't we better go and stop them?”

     “Hang on. Instructions from the Adiposian First Family,” the Doctor explained.”

     “The ones behind all this?” Molly asked curiously. “Are they going to try and start it all up again?”

     The Doctor shrugged off the question, reading through everything quickly. “She's wired up the tower block to convert it into a levitation post,” he explained. His eyebrows raised at the end. “Ooo. Oh.”

     “What is it?” Molly asked warily.

     “We're not the ones in trouble now,” the Doctor realized. “She is!” Without further explanation, he ran to the door, bolting back out into the hallway.

     A million people had nearly died. He wasn't going to let there be another death tonight.

SCENEBREAK

     Molly followed the Doctor back up to the roof, Donna right on their heels. She didn't know exactly what the Doctor had read, but if he was right, and the Matron was in danger, she knew he'd give her one last chance. That was who the Doctor was. She didn't like or trust the Matron, and a part of her whispered that it was safer for everyone to let her be punished. But that wasn't right, and she knew it. No matter what the Matron had done, more death would only make things worse.

     When they finally reached the roof, an interesting sight awaited them. An enormous, saucer-shaped, UFO type spaceship loomed overhead, beams of light reaching down and touching the ground. They seemed to be levitation beams like in old space movies, because literally thousands and thousands of the Adipose creatures were being lifted up by the beams, floating peacefully up into the ships.

     Donna looked at the Doctor uncertainly. “What you going to do then? Blow them up?”

     Molly and the Doctor stared at her, horrified by the suggestion. “They're just children,” the Doctor protested. “They can't help where they come from.” Molly frowned. How could Donna suggest such a thing? She seemed compassionate before, but maybe she'd been wrong.

     The ginger woman snorted. “Oh, that makes a change from last time.”

     The Doctor looked away, expression suddenly darker. “Yeah,” was all he said. Molly looked at him curiously. What exactly had happened when Donna had met him? Sure, he'd been depressed when she'd met him, closed off and hurt by the loss of Rose, but he would never had blown up children. Donna must have really, really done him good, Molly realized. She owed her a lot.

     She turned to the ginger woman, giving her a warm grin. “Great job with the capsule in there,” she complimented.

     Donna shrugged. “I got it off a guy in the call center,” she explained. “Snuck in as Health and Safety.”

     Molly chuckled. “So did we!”

     The ginger woman grinned back. “Great minds, eh? Oh, and thanks for helping me out back there with the lift.”

     “No problem.” She looked at Donna, considering. The woman had shown clear distress over Stacy's murder, and she'd been brave and unafraid of telling off the Matron. She knew the Doctor had offered to make her a companion before, and she could see why. Yes, Donna was loud and brash and blunt, but she also cared. She would make a great companion.

     The idea was still as weird as it had been with Astrid, though she somehow doubted Donna had any romantic interest in the Doctor, but Donna deserved a spot on the TARDIS. She'd just have to get used to having someone new around, that was all.

     Satisfied, the companion turned to look at the departing Adipose. She was a little disturbed by how cute they were, knowing they had been made by human fat, but it wasn't their fault. They were actually pretty adorable, waving cutely at the watching humans and Time Lord as they were lifted home. They waved back, Donna clearly a little uncertain. “I'm waving at fat,” she said, as though she couldn't quite believe it.

     The Doctor chuckled. “Actually, as a diet plan, it sort of works.” he joked.

     Suddenly, Molly noticed the Matron being beamed up not far from the roof. “There she is!” she called to the Doctor. The Matron paused once she was level with the roof, glaring at the Doctor and company

     The Time Lord called out desperately to her, “Matron Cofelia, listen to me.”

     The matron snorted. “Oh, I don't think so, Doctor,” she said coldly. “And if I never see you again, it'll be too soon.”

     The Doctor let out a frustrated growl. “Oh, why does no one ever listen? I'm trying to help! Just get across to the roof. Can you shift the levitation beam?”

     “What, so that you can arrest me?”

     “So we can help you!” Molly snapped. “Just listen to the Doctor!”

     “I saw the Adiposian instructions,” the Doctor said, imploring her to listen, to understand. “They know it's a crime, breeding on Earth. So what's the one thing they want to get rid of? Their accomplice.”

     The Matron smiled, pride radiating from her. “I'm far more than that.” She spread her arms wide, gesturing to all the floating Adipose as she claimed, “I'm nanny to all these children.”

     “Exactly!” the Doctor cried. “Mum and Dad have got the kids now. They don't need the nanny  
anymore.”

     The Matron's eyes widened, the smile slipping right off her face. Before she could say anything, the levitation beam around her disappeared. She hovered a moment, scared and betrayed. Then she fell screaming to the Earth below, landing with a sickening thud. Molly flinched from the sound, as did Donna, but the Doctor just watched with a dark expression, hanging his head. The companion put a hand on his shoulder, sorry they couldn't save her, but more worried about the effect it would have on the Doctor. Overall, she was really, really glad it was over. It had been another long day, another fight for life or death, and now the day was saved, and it was time to go home.

     But not alone.

SCENEBREAK  
sa  
     By the time they got out of the building, the Doctor had used his sonic screwdriver to alter the sonic pen, deactivating it and turning it into nothing more than a pen. He chucked it into the nearest bin he could find, then turned back to the two women, grinning. “I think you're right, Molly,” he quipped, “the screwdriver's classic.” He tossed it once for show, then put it safely back in his coat.

     Molly chuckled. “Yeah, a sonic screwdriver's cool, but the pen was kinda pushing it.”

     Donna looked around at the street, at the people rejoicing that the ship was gone, or staring around in shock, unable to process what had happened. “Poor buggers,” she said sympathetically. “But at least they're alive.” Then she brightened. “To the TARDIS then, yeah? Come on!” She grabbed the Doctor's wrist, pulling him along, leaving Molly to follow, amused at the Doctor' overwhelmed expression.

     When they reached the alley where they'd left the ship, Molly noticed for the first time a blue car parked nearby. Donna stared at it in shock. “That's my car!” she gasped, shock turning to amazement. “That is like destiny. And I've been ready for this.” She hurried over to the trunk, pulling out what seemed like an insane number of suitcases. She dumped each one she pulled out unceremoniously into the Doctor's arms, explaining, “I packed ages ago, just in case. Because I thought, hot weather, cold weather, no weather. He goes anywhere. I've gotta be prepared.”

     Molly had to fight to hold back laughter. The Doctor was nearly overwhelmed by his pile of suitcases, his head forced to tilt back and look up. He looked quizzically at the pile in his arms, as though unsure how it'd gotten there. “You've got a... a hatbox,” he observed, puzzled.

     Donna threw out her arms, grinning. “Planet of the Hats, I'm ready.” She started towards the TARDIS, turning to face them when she reached the doors. “I don't need injections, do I? You know, like when you go to Cambodia. Is there any of that? Because my friend Veena went to Bahrain, and she...” She trailed off as she saw the way the Doctor was staring at her, morose and silent. “You're not saying much,” she observed quietly.

     The Time Lord sighed, putting her suitcases gently to the ground. “No, it's just... we've had an odd time of it lately.”

     “You don't want me,” Donna guessed sadly.

     The Doctor shook his head quickly. “I'm not saying that,” he assured her. “It's just, you know, it isn't just me anymore. I've got to look out for Molly and Sherlock, and they've been through some rough spots in the last year. I don't know if it's fair to bring someone else into that.” He gave Molly a sad smile, then turned back to Donna. “I mean, I'd love to bring a mate on board, but I don't know if it'd be fair.”

     Molly smiled back, touched at his concern, but unfortunately Donna had misheard. She jerked back, gaping at him. “You wouldn't mind _mating_?!” she repeated, outrage obvious in her tone.

     The Doctor's eyes widened. He quickly tried to backtrack. “ _Bringing_ a mate,” he corrected hastily.

     Donna glared at him, clearly outraged and insulted. “Well you're not mating with me, sunshine!” she snapped, her glare causing the Doctor to actually back up a step. Molly couldn't hold back her laughter this time. The Doctor was such an impressive and imposing figure; it was so rare to see him overwhelmed like this. It could be good for him. Oh yes, she could definitely get used to having Donna around.

     “ _A_ mate, _a_ mate!” the Doctor insisted quickly, looking mortified at the implications.

     Donna huffed, looking relieved and a little embarrassed. “Well, just as well,” she blustered, “because I'm not having any of that nonsense. I mean, you're just a long streak of nothing.” She waved her hands to demonstrate how skinny he was. “You know, alien nothing.” Molly's sides were hurting at this point, and the Doctor shot her a slight glare as she bent over laughing.

     Once she got her breath back, she told the Doctor, “Let her come.”

     He looked at her uncertainly. “You sure?” he asked sympathetically. Molly was touched by his concern, and how he clearly put her emotional status above bringing a new friend on board.

     “It's fine,” she assured him. She gave Donna a warm smile, pushing away the small voice of doubt in her head. “You helped save the world tonight, Donna. If that doesn't merit a spot on the TARDIS, I don't know what will.”

     The Doctor hesitated, then nodded. Donna looked between him and Molly hopefully. “I can come?”

     The Time Lord grinned. “Yeah. Course you can, yeah. I'd love it.”

     Donna let out a squeal of joy. She started to hug the Doctor, then pulled back, as though something had occurred to her. “Car keys.”

     The Doctor's brow furrowed. “What?”

     The ginger woman laughed. “I've still got my mum's car keys.” She started off down the street, calling over her shoulder, “I won't be a minute.”

     The Doctor stared after her for a minute, smiling. Then he turned back to Molly. “You sure you're all right with this?” he asked worriedly.”

     Molly shrugged. She was nervous, yes, and maybe just a little bit worried about Donna getting on better with the Doctor with her, but that was just nerves from the day's fight, surely. She wasn't a child, there was no need to be jealous. She'd deal with it. “It'll be great,” she told him.

     He searched her expression a moment, looking like he didn't believe her, but after a few moments he said nothing. Molly couldn't help feeling something was between them, something unsaid or unknown. She'd felt so close to him the day before, so open, but now she could feel a wall there, neither saying what they really thought or suspected. She knew part of where it had come from, but as ever, it was hard to guess what the Doctor was thinking. Maybe Donna's arrival would help things. _Or make them worse,_ the voice in her head taunted, but she ignored it.

     While Donna was gone, the two travelers worked together to load all of her things into the TARDIS. Molly was amazed anyone could pack this much into a tiny trunk. At one point, she checked to make sure it wasn't bigger on this inside. They had everything inside the console room by the time Donna returned. She was grinning, not looking nervous about leaving home and family behind. “Off we go, then,” she said cheerfully.

     As she walked into the TARDIS, the Doctor told her grandly, “Here it is. The Tardis. It's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside -”

     “Oh, I know that bit,” Donna interrupted him impatiently. “Although frankly, you could turn the heating up.” Molly let out a snort of laughter.

     The Doctor looked a little hurt at being denied a wide-eyed reaction to the TARDIS, but he shook it off after a moment. He stepped over to the console, grinning at Donna. “So, whole wide universe, where do you want to go?”

     The ginger woman grinned back. “Oh, I know exactly the place,” she assured him.

     “Which is?”

     “Two and a half miles that way.”

SCENEBREAK

     The Doctor entered the coordinates, flying them over Donna's house. There on the hill, just where she said he'd be, was Donna's grandfather, an elderly man with white hair in a red hat. Odd, but somehow he looked familiar. He seemed ecstatic when he noticed the ship, even more so when he saw Donna. “He can see us,” Molly told the new companion. “Go ahead, wave.”

     They all waved at the man on the hill, who looked close to tears, practically beaming at the night sky. “Grandad's always been there for me,” Donna said fondly, looking a little teary-eyed herself. “Great man. If anyone should know where I'm going and why, it's him.”

     They hovered for a minute, then flew away, ready for their next adventure, with a new passenger on board. In all the excitement, Donna Noble completely forgot her chance encounter with a blond woman.

     She would not remember it for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Partners in Crime is finally done! Sorry for sticking so close to canon, but I warned you that would happen. Now, however, anything is subject to change, and hopefully a lot of it. That'll mean possibly slower updates as I try to figure out how exactly to change this or that, but it should be better quality hopefully.
> 
> And yes, for everyone asking, the awaited Sherlock and Donna snark battle is just around the corner.


	10. Interlude Two: A Long Expected Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock meets Donna. 'Nuff said.

     After visiting Donna's grandfather and getting her set up in a room, they reconvened in the console room. “So, time to pick up Sherlock I guess,” the Doctor commented.

     Donna looked at him curiously. “Who's that then? You mentioned him before.”

     Molly hesitated, wondering how to describe the detective. “Er, another passenger,” she finally said. “Only temporary.”

     “He's a friend of Molly's, needed somewhere to hide,” the Doctor explained. “We dropped him off in London before going to check out the Adipose.”

     The new companion listened with interest. “And he's on temporary you say?” she asked. When Molly nodded, she shook her head. “Can't imagine going through trips like that and just leaving it behind.”

     Molly shrugged. “He's got his own life. It's almost as interesting at this one, actually. He gets in nearly as much trouble.”

     Donna grinned. “Sounds interesting.”

     “He is that,” Molly agreed.

     “Right then, let's pick him up then, so we can get to the interesting stuff,” Donna urged, turning to glare impatiently at the Doctor. Molly held back a chuckle at the Time Lord's expression.

     He blinked a few times, then turned to the console. “Right, to London then,” he agreed. The Doctor started up the TARDIS, sending the ship into the usual shaking and convulsions. The Doctor and Molly were practiced enough to hold onto the console and keep their footing, but Donna was thrown to the ground, cursing loudly. The companion held back a chuckle at her expense; the redheaded companion looked irritated and embarrassed enough without Molly laughing at her.

     As the ship stilled, Donna got to her feet, rubbing her arm and grumbling. “Bloody hell, I forgot what it's like in this thing.” She threw a deadly glare at the Time Lord and demanded irritably, “Who in their right mind let you behind the wheel of this thing?”

     The Doctor glared back, clearly irritated with the slight on his driving skills. Molly decided to intervene before he said something he'd regret. “So, I guess Sherlock's expecting us then. She hurried to the door, pulling it open, ignoring the irritated Time Lord and companion behind her.

     They'd landed in a large, crowded street, full of people even at the late hour. Sherlock had given them very exact coordinates, and now Molly could see why. The TARDIS was parked directly under a roof that kept them from sight overhead. Though she wondered who exactly they were hiding from and where they were watching from, she couldn't help but be impressed that Sherlock had memorized the exact coordinates of a roof that was large enough to hide the TARDIS.

     She peered out into the crowd, searching for the familiar form of the detective. For several moments, she saw nothing. There was a part of the crowd she almost didn't want to look at. It took a few moments to realize why; Sherlock must be wearing his TARDIS key, using the perception filter. It kept him from being noticed by most of the crowd, but Molly had used those keys for a year, and she knew how to see past the filter. Now that she knew what she was looking for, it only took a few moments to spot the detective. He was still in the brown coat and hat from earlier, the coat collar up and his gaze shifting around furtively as he made a bee-line for the TARDIS.

     Molly waved him over, grinning as he got closer. “Good to see you're in one piece,” she said cheerfully.

     Sherlock just snorted. “Like there was any doubt,” he said drily.

     The companion sobered a little as she took in the dark, soft vulnerability in Sherlock's eyes. She was about to ask what had gone wrong when she realized – of course. He'd gone to visit John. The only other time she'd seen that look in his eyes was when John had died during the Year. He must have been dying to see John ever since the timeline was reestablished, but it had to be killing him that he couldn't tell John he was alive or even talk to him.

     Of course, she was tactful enough not to bring it up. Instead she asked, “Everything got taken care of alright?”

     Sherlock nodded tersely. “For now.” With that, he pushed past Molly into the TARDIS. The companion followed him in, watching him curiously as he noticed Donna. The detective's eyes narrowed, gaze suddenly sharp and intelligent as he did his customary scan of the new companion.

     The Doctor grinned as Sherlock walked in. “Ah, good to have you back on board. Sherlock, this is Donna Noble, she's gonna be traveling with us then.”

     The detective gave a little jerky nod, gaze still fixed on the temp. Donna looked a little uncomfortable with his intense stare, eyes narrowing irritably. After a few moments, she scoffed, “Sheesh, you're a quiet one then. Don't I at least get a name?”

     Sherlock's lips quirked into a smirk, knowing almost vicious in its eagerness. Molly closed her eyes, fighting back a sigh. She knew what was going to come next, and based on the little she knew about Donna, it wasn't going to be pretty.

     With the same smirk, Sherlock replied, “I assumed as an old friend of the Doctor's he would've already told you.”

     The Doctor seemed to have finally caught onto the danger of the situation. He gave a little warning, “Sherlock,” but Donna spoke overtop of him.

     “So the Doctor told you about me then?” she asked uncertainly, clearly getting creeped out by Sherlock's behavior.

     Sherlock's smirk turned smug. “I'd hardly need him to,” he said in a patronizing tone, “it's obvious. You're clearly not surprised by the state of the TARDIS, which suggests you're either used to such technology or you've been inside before. Since you're obviously just a human, that leaves the option of you being a former guest on the TARDIS. A child could figure it out.”

     Molly shot the detective a quick glare, hoping to head him off before it got worse, but Donna had already gotten ruffled by something he'd said. “What'dya mean, _just_ human?” she snapped, looking offended.

     The detective raised an eyebrow, someone looking even more patronizing than before. “Do I really have to spell it out?” he asked in a condescending tone.

     “ _Sherlock_ ,” Molly warned in a low voice, using the I'm-in-charge-damnit-so-shut-the-hell-up tone she'd picked up over the Year.

     He just rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, I've been stuck here for two weeks, I haven't worked my mind like this in days.” Ignoring Molly and the Doctor, he turned back to Donna, who looked like she wasn't sure how deadly a glare to throw at him just yet. In his rapid-fire, clinical tone, he began, “The outfit suggests a desk job, probably as a secretary of some kind judging by the mostly priced attire and the indents on your arms and hands, which suggest you spend a lot of time typing. They're fainter now, fading, which suggests you've been out of work for some time.” The detective began moving, circling around Donna, looking her up and down like a particularly interesting bit of machinery to be picked apart by the eye. “Your age and your clothes suggest you've been working this job for some time, which suggests a low intelligence and an inability to move up in the world, clearly -”

     There was a resounding _crack_ as Donna slapped Sherlock full across the face. Molly's eyes widened, and she saw the Doctor wince in sympathy. The detective clearly hadn't been expecting it; he reeled back, eyes wide with surprise, hand rising unbidden to his cheek.

     Donna's nostrils were flaring, cheeks burning with fury and embarrassment as she bellowed, “Listen up you stick insect, I don't know who the hell you are, but I don't need to stand here and be insulted by you!”

     Sherlock's face worked quickly to regain it's cold indifference, though Molly noticed he took a slight shuffling step back from Donna. “You're the one who came on board,” he pointed out stiffly. “It's hardly my fault what I can deduce.”

     “You prat,” Donna growled, “that doesn't mean you need to go blurting out every bloody thing that comes to mind. What're you, five?” Sherlock managed to looked insulted on top of everything else, which made it all the harder for Molly to watch with a straight face. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed. “Hang on a tic, I know you! Knew I'd heard that name Sherlock before, you're that detective bloke that killed himself, right? I read it in the tabloids, they said you were a fake. How the hell're you walking around then?” She looked almost accusingly at the Doctor. “Is he your cousin or something? It'd fit, he's skinnier than you. So what, you Time whatsits can survive drops off three story buildings or something?”

     “I'm not an alien,” Sherlock said with growing annoyance.

     “Yeah? Well you're sure acting like it mate,” Donna threw right back at him.

     “Just because I possess greater intelligence than you doesn't automatically make me non-human,” he growled irritably. “The limits of human intelligence exceed quite beyond yours.”

     “No, but it does make you an ass,” Donna retorted. She turned back to the Doctor, glare fierce enough to make even him back up a step. “How long did you say he was staying again?”

     The Doctor struggled for an answer, throwing a quick, scared glance at Molly, which she returned. They both said the same unspoken thing; _Oh god, what have we done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone, and I do mean *everyone* who commented seems to have been looking forward to this moment. I'm sorry it took so long to post, but have I mentioned how hard Sherlock's dialogue is to write? Even now I'm not sure whether I made him to mean or not, but I guess I'll leave that for you to judge. Plus I was working on some of my Lion King stuff between the last chapter and now.
> 
> I hope this lived up to everyone's expectations. I tried to make it as epic as possible, though I wish I'd added more Donna in there. Tell me what you think, and give suggestions, 'cause this is by no means the last time Donna Nobble and Sherlock Holmes will snark at each other.


	11. The Snows of Paldoon: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor, Molly, and Sherlock take Donna on her first TARDIS trip.

     Donna had wanted to start her first proper TARDIS adventure as soon as possible, but it had been a full day for everyone involved, so the Doctor insisted on everyone turning in for the night. Once they were safe in the Time Vortex, he told Molly to lead the new companion to the vacant rooms. Sherlock had already slunk off, probably to try and take apart the TARDIS again. Molly wasn't too worried; the ship would keep him from causing too much damage.

     The companion led Donna through the halls, the two walking in silence for a while. Molly hesitated before turning to the new companion and saying, “Sorry about Sherlock earlier, he can be a bit of a prat sometimes.”

     Donna snorted. “A bit?” she repeated doubtfully. Molly laughed in agreement. “Seriously though, what do you put up with him for? And how'd he know all that stuff about me anyway? What's he, a mind reader?”

     Molly chuckled. “No. Sherlock's just... observant. It's sorta hard to explain, but he just looks at little things about you, you know, like ink on your hand or your outfit, and uses them to come to logical conclusions about you.”

     The ginger woman looked at her dubiously. “What, my outfit told him all that?”

     The companion laughed. “It's a bit more than that, but yeah, sorta.”

     Donna stared at her for a few moments, obviously trying to decide whether she was joking or not, before shaking her head. “That's just creepy,” she decided.

     “A little bit,” Molly admitted. “You get used to it after a while. Except when he gets really personal, that's still kinda awkward, but tell him off enough and eventually he gets the message.”

     “Good to hear,” the ginger woman said with a grin. Molly got the feeling she wasn't going to be shy about telling the detective off. Whether that would be good or bad for everyone involved still remained to be seen, but Molly sure it would at least start out amusing. Plus, Sherlock could do with the attitude check.

     They eventually found the right hallway, and Donna selected a room. Before Molly could leave to retire to her own room, Donna stopped her. She hesitated before saying, “Listen, I meant what I said before, to the Doctor. Whatever's going on between you two, I don't want to get between that.”

     Molly had to think for a moment before she realized what Donna meant. Her eyes widened. “No, no, we're not like that!” she corrected Donna quickly. “We're not together. He's my best friend, but no.”

     To her surprise, Donna nodded. “Oh, I know, I mean it's obvious you two aren't together. All I meant is, you were here first, and I don't want to break the group dynamic or whatever.” Molly was surprised by how deeply sincere she sounded, so different from the loud, brash woman who'd slapped Sherlock minutes earlier. There was uncertainty there too; Molly realized she must be feeling a little awkward coming into an established group, though nothing in her earlier behavior had pointed to it.

     Molly gave her a reassuring smile. “Don't worry. We're glad to have you on board, even Sherlock, even if it's just to break the monotony.”

     Donna grinned, looking happier. “Great. See you tomorrow then?”

     She nodded. “Tomorrow.” Donna retreated into her room, leaving Molly to go to hers. She still didn't know Donna Noble very well, but she felt a little better after their talk, the little whispers of jealousy dying down. This was all going to work out, she knew it.

     Tomorrow, they would take Donna Noble on her first trip on the TARDIS. After that, who knew?

SCENEBREAK

     The next morning, Molly was surprised to see she wasn't the last to the console room, as was the norm. The Doctor and Sherlock were already there, but Donna was nowhere to be seen.

     She headed up to the console, laying a hand on the controls. She could feel the steady _thrum_ of the engines under her feet, could hear the TARDIS's low _hum_. The companion smiled fondly at the console, lazily flipping a few switches. In the Year, one of the harder adjustments to make was falling asleep without the familiar song of the engine echoing around her. She was glad to have it back.

     "Morning," the Doctor greeted cheerfully. Sherlock didn't bother with a greeting, which was what Molly was used to, so she let it go. For a moment she found herself missing Greg, and the dynamic they'd had during the Year, but she shook the feeling off. Today was Donna's first trip, no need to spoil it by being nostalgic.

     "Morning," she returned with a smile. "Where's Donna?"

     The Time Lord shrugged. "Still asleep, I guess."

     As he spoke, the companion herself emerged from the hallway, coffee in hand and looking somewhere in between totally groggy and passably awake. Glaring around the console room, she grumbled, “What time is it?”

     Sherlock raised an eyebrow, reminding her in a slightly smug tone, “We're in the Time Vortex, Donna. It isn't any time at all.”

     “Oh, stuff it,” Donna growled irritably.

     The Doctor grinned. “Glad to see you up!” he said cheerfully. Doubling back around the console, he started up the flight sequence, throwing a grin at Donna. “So, anywhere at all in time and space, anyplace you want to start?”

     Looking a little more awake at the prospect of a trip, Donna shrugged. “Not like I've got a map of the universe in my head,” she pointed out. “Dunno, surprise me.”

     Molly grinned. “Looks like it's back to the original plan then.”

     The Doctor looked at her, brow furrowing as he asked, “What do you mean?”

     “Before the Adipose, didn't you say we were going to see the Crystal Snows of Paldoon?”

     The Time Lord's eyes lit up. “Oh right, yeah, Paldoon!” He started up the sequence, Molly helping with the parts she remembered. The Doctor paused, looking thoughtful. “Great name for a planet, Paldoon, fun word.”

     Molly rolled her eyes. “Let's focus on actually getting there," she suggested with a chuckle.

     Together, they sent the TARDIS flying through time and space. Donna was better prepared for the shuddering of the ship; Molly saw her grab onto the railing before she could be thrown off her feet again. The companion felt a rush of excitement mixed with apprehension; how would their first outing with the new companion go?

     After a few moments, they landed with a slight _thud_. There was a pause, Donna looking ready to burst with excitement, the Doctor sharing a quick grin with each companion, Molly feeling an even sharper jab of apprehension. Then it was replaced by eagerness, and with a grin, she hurried for the door, followed closely by the Doctor.

     As the other two companions approached, the Doctor whirled to face them, grinning widely. "Donna Noble," he announced grandly, "behind these doors, could be anything. All of time and space. You ready?" Molly couldn't help but chuckle at his grand tone, re 

     Donna grinned. "'Course, what do you think I'm doing here?"

     Sherlock, looking unimpressed, just rolled his eyes. "Are you going to prattle on about it all day, or are you going to open the door?" he asked drily.

     The Doctor shot him a sour glare. "Killjoy," he complained, before turning back to the doors, pulling them open. Molly followed him out, blinking as a bright light hit her eyes.

     As her eyes adjusted, she was able to  see that it was early morning, the sky still lightly painted with pinks and blues and oranges. Two moons were still palely visible, a larger sun hanging high above them in the sky.

     But that wasn't way drew her attention. The sky wasn't half as gorgeous as the ground. A vast blanket of snow stretched as far as the eye could see, but it wasn't like any snow she'd seen. Instead of a soft white, it was a glittering expanse of crystalline colors, pale pinks, blues, purples, all shimmering and glinting in the sunlight. It was like someone had littered the ground with fairy dust. The combination of snow and sky made and the pale twin moons for a breathtaking sight.

     Donna drew in a sharp breath as she stepped out of the TARDIS, eyes wide with wonder as she drank in the sight of her first alien planet. The normally loud woman seemed softer, younger somehow, as she gazed silently at the snowy planet. As she watched her awe-struck reaction, Molly couldn't help but feel her own sense of wonder. There was something about watching someone else see the universe for the first time that made it seem all the more precious. It made you look with fresh eyes, trying to glean the wonder they saw.

     She shot the Doctor a curious look. Was that what she had been like that first time, in a little alley in Elizabethan London? Was that why the Doctor took on companions like her, to experience that second-hand wonder? The Time Lord caught her glance; when he returned it with a knowing grin, his excitement tangible, she knew she was right.

     "Whoa," Donna breathed. "We're on a real alien planet." She let out a little laugh, grinning. "Me, Donna Noble, on a real, actual alien planet!" The new companion laughed in delight.

     Molly grinned. "Pretty cool, huh?"

     The Doctor whirled to face him, his coat twirling behind him. "Donna Noble, Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes," he announced grandly, "welcome to Paldoon." Sherlock said nothing, aloof as ever, but Molly could tell even he was impressed.

     Donna crouched down and scooped up a handful of the able, watching with fascination as it filtered through her fingers. She looked up at the Doctor, tone curious as she asked, "What's this then, alien snow? Why's it look like that?"

     "It's a different liquid than water," the Doctor explained, "a pretty rare substance actually. Not worth much, mind, just pretty to look at. This planet has a lot of rare minerals under the surface" He went on a bit longer about the properties of the snow, explaining why it stayed around even when it was barely chilly out, but Molly tuned him out. Instead, she focused on the snow itself, and how the sunlight danced on the surface. It was truly a remarkable sight. Finally, Donna stopped the Doctor's rant, grumbling that she'd been looking for an answer not a science lesson. The Doctor looked a bit put out, but got over it quickly.

     "Right," he said, slinging an arm around Molly and Donna's shoulders, "lets go."

     "Go where?" Sherlock asked with an eyebrow raised.

     The Doctor shrugged. "Dunno. Walk around a bit, you know, see the sights."

     The detective wrinkled his nose. "We're here to sightsee?" he asked distastefully.

     "What, something wrong with stopping and seeing the universe a bit?" the Time Lord asked a little irritably.

     Sherlock sniffed. "Just seems a touch mundane for your track record, Doctor." The Doctor stiffened, but Sherlock just turned up his coat collar and followed without complaint. Shrugging, the Time Lord let it go, falling into step with Donna and Molly.

     The detective still looked a little sulky, which irked Molly a bit. Just because he thought seeing a gorgeous new planet was too boring for him didn't mean he had to rain on everyone else's parade. "I don't see what good sulking's going to do you," she told him testily.

      He looked up at her with a glare. Feeling a little guilty, she fell back into step with him, nudging him with her shoulder. "Don't worry, all our adventures start out like this. No matter how innocent it starts out trouble always seems to find us. I'll bet anything, before the day's out we'll be running from some alien tribe out for blood."

     Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "So you just walk around and wait for something interesting to pop up?"

     "Pretty much," Molly confirmed.

     "Doesn't seem like a very reliable method of alleviating boredom," Sherlock commented. "But it'll do for now."

     "Oh, but it's not just about finding puzzles to solve Sherlock," the Doctor told him, grinning at him over his shoulder. "It's about seeing what the universe has to offer, exploring the wonders of time and space, smelling the occasional rose. Mind, trouble can be fun too."

     Donna rolled her eyes. "You're mad, the lot of you," she declared. "Running headlong into danger."

     "You're the one who wanted to come," the Doctor reminded her.

     She chuckled. "I must be bonkers too then.” The new companion grinned, putting her free arm around Molly's shoulder, Molly putting hers around Sherlock and forcing him to join the group. “Come on then, let's see what there is to see.”

SCENEBREAK

     They walked for a time, enjoying the vast fields of crystalline snow, the little hills and snow-dusted shrubs the landscape had to offer. It was all very beautiful, and, as it turned out, just as good as making snowballs as Earth snow. It didn't take long for them to get wrapped up in a snowball fight, the three of them laughing and generally goofing off. It was good to know that Donna was as willing to play and make a fool of herself as much as her or the Doctor. Sherlock stayed off to the side, no matter how many times they threw a snowball his way, though Molly could've sworn she'd seen the odd snowball fly from his direction.

     Molly had just been hit by Donna; smirking, she quickly scooped up a handful of the stuff, packing it together and letting it fly. She got the angle wrong; it flew past Donna, but it didn't just roll off into the bushes; instead, it hit a wide-eyed bystander square in the face.

     The game paused as the four travelers turned to look at the creature they hadn't noticed before. It almost looked like an anthropomorphic chipmunk, minus the striping, and with a muzzle more like a dog's, short but tapering. It was maybe the height of Molly's waist, with wide brown eyes and little furry paws. It wore what looked like a monk's robe, with a long, wolf-like tail visibly poking out. It stared back at them, silent, eyes wide with what looked like terror.

     The Doctor smiled encouragingly, approaching the creature with a warm grin. “Oh, hello there! Didn't realize we'd gotten so close to your camp, I apologize.”

     Donna looked at him in surprise. “What, you know him?”

     “He's a Chakdaw,” the Doctor explained, “it's their planet. Not as advanced as humans, but intelligent.” He turned back to face the Chakdaw, still smiling warmly. “You're the camp scout aren't you? Sorry if we got too close, but I promise, we don't mean any harm.”

     The Chakdaw hesitated, whiskers twitching, before beckoning them forward with a paw. He glanced around furtively, posture making him seem almost nervous, before turning and padding off, leaving the travelers to follow.

     The Doctor frowned, straightening back to his full height. “That's odd,” he noted, brow furrowing slightly. “Chakdaws aren't usually that skittish.”

     Donna shrugged. “Maybe he can't understand English,” she suggested.

     “No, the TARDIS translation matrix translated our words for him,” the Doctor explained off-handedly, “and the Chakdaws have a language as complex and advanced as English. Something's not right here.” He continued to look thoughtful for another moment, then his grin returned as he shot Molly a mischievous glance. “Well, no point standing around talking about it. Allons-y!” He followed after the Chakdaw, leaving the three companions to follow.

     Molly chuckled, shaking her head at the Doctor's behavior. She turned to Sherlock and Donna, the former looking intrigued, the latter looking dubious. “See, I told you, trouble finds us wherever we go.” With that, she turned to follow the Doctor, the two companions trailing after her.

     Donna's first trip had just gotten a little more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Changed a line during Donna and Molly's talk.
> 
> Well, I actually wasn't planning on going into original episodes just yet, but I couldn't think of that many ways to alter the Fires of Pompeii, what with the fixed ending and all. Then I remembered the Doctor mentioning the Crystal Snows of Paldoon, a little line I'd snuck in before, and decided to go with that. Sorry for the wait by the way, I was trying to think up a plot.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed all the Donna and Team TARDIS interaction, and how everyone's sort of slipping into place. Sherlock too has to find his place in the dynamic - remember, he was only on the TARDIS maybe a day before the Year began, so he never got to solidify his place there.
> 
> I hope you guys like the plot I come up with. This will be a one-episode plot, not a two-parter like the Last Tsar.
> 
> Oh, and I named the Chakdaws after a skating move called a Choctaw, which is the most difficult and evil thing I have ever had to do in figure skating and is currently on the test I'm trying to pass. If anyone here knows what I'm talking about, please let me know, I'd love to be able to rant about the evilness of Choctaws.


	12. The Snows of Paldoon: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Chakdaw leads them to his camp.

     They followed the Chakdaw as it led them through the snow, occasionally looking back at them with wide, frightened eyes. Molly couldn't help but wonder what could have it so scared. It couldn't be them; the Chakdaw was interacting with them willingly. So what was it?

     The Chakdaw soon led them to what Molly presumed was the Chakdaw camp. The word “camp” had made her think something in terms of a small village, but this was altogether larger and grander. A towering structure, sculpted of crystalline ice and snow, loomed high overhead. It looked almost like a church with all the spires and arches. Sherlock's eyebrows raised slightly at the sight, and the Doctor let out a low whistle.

     Surrounding it were several smaller, more ramshackle homes. They were still gorgeous to look at in their crystal colors and their smooth, snowy appearance, but they were definitely more humble than the grand structure behind them. There were no other Chakdaws in sight, but the Chakdaw leading them still seemed nervous, eyes darting around anxiously and ears perked. He lifted his nose to the air, taking a few hesitant sniffs, before cautiously continuing into the camp. Molly and the Doctor shared a baffled glance. What was going on?

     The Doctor cleared his throat before remarking, "Bit quiet around here, isn't it?" The Chakdaw whirled to face him, eyes wide with terror, paws wildly gesturing in a silent attempt to tell the Doctor to stop talking. Looking a little offended, the Time Lord fell silent. The Chakdaw looked around wildly, but when it was clear no one had heard the Doctor's outburst, he relaxed slightly and continued on.

     The Chakdaw cautiously led them towards one of the icy huts, head twitching this way and that on the lookout for his unnamed fear. Apparently satisfied the coast was clear, he ducked inside the opening of the hut, leaving the group to follow him in.

     The interior of the hut was empty of any furniture besides a nest of what looked like wool. There were shelves dug into the icy walls of the hut, where food and clothing were stored, but other than that the place was empty. Molly opened her mouth to ask what they were doing there, but the Chakdaw waved his paws wildly, gesturing for her not to talk, so she reluctantly kept her mouth shut.

     The creature paused for a moment, listening, before heading over to his woolen nest. With a bit of effort, he pulled the nest aside to reveal a hole below leading to some sort of tunnel. It stepped into the tunnel, beckoning for the group to follow. The travelers shared a quick glance, Donna confused and worried, Sherlock curious, and the Doctor excited. Molly felt the usual excitement of an adventure, but also unease. The Chakdaw's obvious terror and strange silence were rubbing her the wrong way. Something was deeply wrong here, and she had a feeling they were going to find themselves right in the middle of it, as usual.

     One by one, the travelers followed the Chakdaw into the tunnel. They had to squeeze themselves through the Chakdaw-sized hole, but once they were through, the tunnel widened and became comfortably spacious. Molly could see the textured walls of the cave, how they'd clearly been carved from hundreds and hundreds of claws, chipping away at the ice little by little. She wondered with awe how long that must have taken, and how many Chakdaws had worked on it. It must have taken years to build.

     She wasn't given long to stand in awe. The Chakdaw kept them moving, gaze darting nervously around the tunnel. There wasn't any source of light, so once they moved farther under the hut, they were walking in total darkness. Molly had to keep a hand on the wall to keep herself walking straight, and as they started taking side passages and twists and turns, even that didn't keep her from bumping into the walls. The Chakdaw seemed to be relying on practice, or perhaps his night vision allowed him to see. Either way, he led them through the dark without complaint.

     They were only in the dark for a few minutes, though it seemed longer. Not long after, Molly was able to see light in the tunnel ahead. As they got closer, it got brighter, until the tunnel opened up into a wide cavern lined with lanterns. Other Chakdaws milled around, huddled together or sitting on their own, looking up at the travelers with wide eyes. Molly was briefly reminded of the refugees waiting for their ride to Utopia, but she forced the memories back. The poor people of Utopia, and her hand in what had happened to them, was the last thing she wanted to remember.

     She could see that some of the Chakdaws were exchanging food, huddling together in tight groups. Those closest to the light appeared thin, their clothing loose and tattered. Molly drew in a sharp breath. Everyone in the room seemed so desperate and terrified. She turned to their Chakdaw, who looked back at her with sad eyes. “What happened here?” she asked quietly.

     The Chakdaw just looked at her sadly. She frowned. The Doctor had said they had a language, hadn't he? Why weren't they saying anything?

     Donna seemed to have remembered the same thing. “It's alright, you can tell us,” she said gently. The normally brash woman crouched down to the Chakdaw's level, smiling encouragingly. “We can help you, I promise.”

     The Chakdaw shook his head, fear entering his eyes. Donna and Molly shared a worried look, both wondering why the creature was keeping silent. They were distracted by the sound of the Doctor's voice. “Donna's right.” He was standing by the tunnel they'd just come from, where writing was etched onto the wall. Molly wasn't surprised to see English there, and Sherlock didn't react, but Donna's eyes widened, her brow crinkling with confusion. The Time Lord pointed to the scrawl by the tunnel, which read. “ _To: Korris's hut._ ” “That's your name, isn't it? Korris?” The Chakdaw hesitated, then nodded. “So, Korris, you don't seem to be wanting to a lot of talking, so I'll do a bit of chatting instead. I've got a gob, me, so just stop me when I'm wrong.”

     He started towards Korris, hands clasped hehind his back, appearing like a professor about to launch into a lecture. “I've met Chakdaws before, and I know you've got your own language, so it's not that you can't speak, it's that you're choosing not to. So, best I can see, something's come in, taken over, and got you lot so scared you won't even say a peep when they're not looking. This,” he gestured to the surrounding tunnel, “is probably left over from some old rituals and such that your captors don't even allow you to perform anymore. How am I doing so far?”

     Korris sighed, nodding heavily. He shuffled slowly to a far wall where what appeared to be a crude map was etched into the wall. He gestured to one of the tunnels, which appeared to lead to outside. The Chakdaw looked from the map, to the travelers, and back. He held up a paw, gesturing to wait, then held up four fingers. He used his fingers to form the shape of a box, a rectangle like the TARDIS, then gestured to them. His meaning was clear – it wasn't safe to leave yet, but when it was, the Chakdaws would escort them back to the TARDIS.

     The Doctor shook his head, that goofy, cocky smile of his in full force. “Yeah, dunno about that. This place was just starting to get interesting.”

     Molly nodded, grinning a bit. “Yeah, you know, we might like to stick around for a bit, see the sights.”

     Korris's eyes widened with terror, and he shook his head fiercely. The Doctor's expression grew serious. “Korris, we appreciate your help, really. But the four of us, this is what we do. Travel around, see stuff, meet people, you know. And your new bosses seem like very interesting people to meet."

     Korris still seemed completely terrified at the idea. He shook his head again, but none of the travelers were deterred. Sherlock glared impatiently at the creature and said brusquely, "You're hiding us, which means whoever 's in control doesn't welcome strangers like us. You're not hiding from them, clearly, they've kept your huts up there and you've clearly been living in them. You're their servants, they'll obviously be expecting you to bring them any intruders. Just bring us to them, you won't be the ones in trouble, you'll have nothing to worry about, well, no more than the usual."

     "Actually, just bring me and Sherlock," the Doctor corrected. "No need to get us all in trouble." Molly raised an eyebrow at that, but when the Time Lord threw her a quick, warning glance, she kept her mouth shut. Korris hesitated, fearful gaze darting from traveler to traveler, before sighing and dipping his head in acceptance.

     As Korris gestured to two other Chakdaws, presumably telling them to lead the Doctor and Sherlock to their captors, the Time Lord pulled Molly aside. In a low voice he told her, “Try to get the Chakdaws to talk to you.”

     “You need information from them?” Molly asked.

     The Time Lord shrugged. “Anything they've got would be nice, but right now they're terrified. Their captors have got them so scared they won't even speak. You're good with talking to people, helping them, and Donna seems to be too. Just try to get them to talk.”

     Molly nodded. “And you're taking Sherlock 'cause he'll just scare them more?” she predicted shrewdly.

     The Doctor just grinned. The two Chakdaws approached the Time Lord, pulling at his coat as they started towards one of the tunnels. Giving Molly one last, reassuring glance, the Doctor let the Chakdaws lead him away, followed by Sherlock.

SCENEBREAK

     The Doctor let the Chakdaws lead him through the icy, crystalline tunnels, Sherlock a few paces behind. Since they'd met Korris, he could tell something was very wrong on Paldoon. The last time he'd been there, the Chakdaws had all been so cheerful and welcoming. Of course, that had been a few decades ago by his count, but still, what could've gotten them so terrified that they wouldn't even speak? There were more than a few things he could name, but for now he'd wait and see.

     The tunnel continued for some time, twisting and turning in the darkness, but the Chakdaws never wavered. Eventually, the tunnel arced upwards, steps carved into the walls to climb up. The Chakdaws reached the top first, scrambling up and turning to help the Doctor up, reaching down with furry paws. He popped his head above the tunnel, glancing around the area. They were in another of the huts, even less furnished than Korris's. The Chakdaws glanced around nervously, then covered the tunnel once more and led the travelers out of the hut.

     Their guides began to lead them towards the largest, grandest building, farther behind the huts. The Doctor had figured that belonged to the big bosses – it hadn't been there when he'd last visited, though he'd been on a different part of the planet. Plus, Chakdaws didn't usually go for anything so big or flashy.

     The interior proved to be as grand-looking as the outside. There was proper, wooden furniture inside, and wide hallways with decorative rugs laid out. Sherlock raised an eyebrow, gaze darting quickly around the room. The Doctor could tell he was deducing the room, drawing quick conclusions. He dropped back to walk beside the detective, asking in a low tone, “What have you got?” Anything he could see could help with theories.

     “Building's new,” Sherlock answered right away. “Probably completed around a year ago. The halls and doorways are built for large creatures, taller than wide, probably a good eight feet.”

     The Time Lord nodded distractedly. He'd already figured the building had to be new. Knowing the size was more helpful, though it still didn't tell him exactly what he was up against.

     They were led into a vast throne room, with an ornate, lavish rug, and plush seat. On that seat a creature the Doctor hadn't seen in a long time. It was tall and thin, with a humanoid torso, but with four sets of arms, and a centipede-like lower body. It used all four arms as extra legs, resting on it's knuckles, as it peered at the newcomers. It had smooth gray scales that faded into a wrinkly gray hide, which covered the torso and arms. The head shape and eyes were humanoid, but with a lizard-like muzzle, and horns on the head and going down the back. It had golden eyes that narrowed dangerously as it noticed the Doctor and Sherlock.

     In a ragged, hoarse voice, it barked, “Who are you?” The creature descended from the throne, skittering down the steps and coming to stand before the travelers. It rose up from the first two arms, gaining significant height over them, eyes glinting dangerously.

     Sherlock looked more fascinated than scared, and the Doctor grinned eagerly at the creature. “Ah, a Werack!” The Werack blinked in surprise, letting out an untrusting hiss. The Time Lord just continued to beam at him, momentarily ignoring the impending danger in favor of excitement. “I haven't met any Weracks in ages! I went to your planet once, Dorann, might've gotten arrested, though I will say that it was hardly my fault.”

     The Werack lowered itself back onto it's knuckles, leaning in close to look at the Doctor. “Who are you, little man?” it rasped.

     “Oh, just travelers, passing by,” Sherlock said dismissively.

The Time Lord told the Werack, “I'm the Doctor, and that's Sherlock Holmes.” He began to circle the Werack, arms tucked behind his back and leaning forward eagerly. “So, what's a Werack doing here then, eh? You lot have got your own planet, what're you doing here, storming in and starting a prison camp? This isn't your planet to take.”

     The Werack snorted. “What, you mean the Chakdaws?” He glanced dismissively at the two that had led the Doctor and Sherlock there. “They hardly put up a fight worth mentioning. Weak, pathetic, hardly good for anything beyond manual labor.

     The Time Lord's brow furrowed. “Manual labor. Like what?”

     The Werack smirked slightly. “This planet is rich in resources,” he revealed with a cold chuckle. “Metals and minerals not found anywhere else, and these foolish creatures hardly put them to any use. They're only good for digging it from the ground.”

     The Time Lord tensed, suddenly understanding. He tilted his head up, looking calmly at the Werack, considering. “So that's what this is about,” he said in a low voice. “I remember the state your economy was in last time I visited. So what, you bleed your planet dry and take someone else's?”

     The Werack blinked at him, unconcerned. “Isn't that always the way? It's how your people work too, is it not? When you humans run out of room, you take it from lesser creatures. How is this any less acceptable?”

     The Doctor smirked. “Yeah, see, here's the thing.” He leaned in close to the Werack's face, expression smug. “I'm not human. And I'm really not a fan of people of the whole conquer and enslave routine.” He turned serious as he added, “I'm going to stop you.”

     The Werack just chuckled. It rose up off all four sets of arms, growing taller and taller until it loomed far over the Time Lord's head. It's thin hands sported long, sharp claws that glinted ominously. as it growled, “And how exactly do you plan to stop us?”;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Um. Right. I am so, *so* sorry about the wait. Wow, over two weeks? That's bloody insane. I'm really sorry. Wow.
> 
> I had some *major* writer's block for the last few weeks. I could not for the life of me translate my thoughts properly to paper. That' also why this chapter is less than quality. I'm sorry, I really hoped to make this a good chapter. But most of it was written at 1 AM any given night, or any other time I could force myself to write through my writer's block. Writing that's been forced through writer's block always turns out crappy, so again, I'm sorry for the quality.
> 
> I will try to pick up the slack with the posting.


	13. The Snows of Paldoon: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna and Molly are left with the Chakdaws.

     The Chakdaws seemed even more nervous after the Doctor and Sherlock left. A couple of sentries kept guard by the different tunnel exits, half covered in shadow, half bathed in the light cast from the lamps hung nearby. Korris stayed by Molly and Donna, gaze darting around anxiously. The other Chakdaws shuffled around nervously, none of them speaking, but all carrying an air of fear. They skittered around, the cave filled with a nervous tension.

     Donna watched all this with a feeling of unease. She was sitting by the cave wall, her back leaning against the icy surface, while Molly paced around the cave. The other companion couldn't seem to sit still, though she didn't speak a word. Donna hadn't known the woman long, but there was a cool, calculating look in her eyes that she hadn't seen there before. The companion was looking at the Chakdaws with a lightly wrinkled brow, like she was working out a puzzle.

     Donna wasn't sure what she had been expecting from her first trip with the Doctor - adventure, aliens, a boring history lecture - but it hadn't been this. These creatures, these aliens, they were clearly terrified of something. Donna couldn't pretend she wasn't the least bit scared, but what weighed more on her mind than the unknown danger was the behavior of her new traveling companions.

     She'd expected Sherlock to be an unfeeling git from the moment she'd met him, so he offered no surprise there. The Doctor and Molly, however, were a little more worrying. It wasn't that they didn't care; they clearly did. But they looked at the Chakdaws, at their obvious terror and the state they were living in, and they hardly batted an eyelash. They grinned and joked and acted like they saw this every day. They were sympathetic, clearly, but not horrified, or even that worried. More intrigued, like they were facing a shiny, new puzzle. Well, that was more how the Doctor was. Molly was facing the whole thing with an almost military detachment, something hard in her eyes.

     Donna could still remember the Racnoss, the waters of the Thames flooding in and washing away her children, and the Doctor just standing there, face like stone and eyes dark with a fury like she'd never seen. She'd seen in that moment that the goofy, cheerful alien was dangerous, deceptively so. That was why she'd chosen not to go with him in the first place. _”That place was flooding and burning and they were dying, and you were stood there like, I don't know, a stranger. And then you made it snow. I mean, you scare me to death!”_

     After that, of course, he'd flown off in his magic box, and it didn't take long for her to regret her choice. The Doctor was terrifying, sure, but he'd also saved a lot of people from the Racnoss. Donna had wanted that, the adventure, and the chance to help people. Then she'd found him again, this time trying to figure out the conspiracy at Adipose industries, and this time he'd seemed different. He'd healed a bit from the loss of Rose, had softened a little. And true, she hadn't seen anything like his rage at HC Clements, but his lack of reaction to the terrified Chakdaws was still a little chilling. How much did you have to go through to be able to wave off that kind of pain?

     Molly was a different story. Donna didn't know her as well as the Doctor, but she couldn't help but see the similarities between her and the Time Lord. She was joking and grinning like the Doctor, but under that, especially now, just walking around the cave, Donna could see something dark underneath, something that had her pacing with a tight expression rather than talking to the Chakdaws. She didn't know what it was, but it had her worried. Was that what the people who traveled with the Doctor became? Soldiers who focused on the battles rather than the victims? A small voice in Donna's mind whispered, _Is that what I'll be, if I travel with him long enough?_

     She sighed, shaking her head. _No use worrying over it, Donna,_ she told herself. _Focus on what's happening now._ The temp turned to Korris, who was staring off towards the tunnel Sherlock and the Doctor had left from. She cleared her throat, making the little creature jump. “Sorry, didn't mean the scare you,” she apologized with an encouraging smile. The Chakdaw just gave a little shrug, as if to say, “ _Not a big deal._ ”

     The temp looked out at the Chakdaws all huddled around in the cave. “How many of you are down here?” she asked curiously.

     Korris held his paws, holding up two fingers, then eight. Donna let out a low whistle. “Twenty eight. Is that your whole tribe then?” The Chakdaw nodded. The temp could see a few young Chakdaws staying close to the legs of their elders, and a few Chakdaws with ragged fur and gray around their muzzles. All were thin, and all looked terrified. Korris himself looked to be pretty young, not quite as tall as the older Chakdaws and with softer, more vibrant fur.

     “So you their leader then?” Donna asked. She remembered how he'd told the two Chakdaws to go with the Doctor and Sherlock, and how he'd seemed to be in charge about the humans who'd stumbled in.

     Korris's expression softened for a moment, his lips twitching into a small smile. For a moment, he looked amused at the suggestion. He shook his head quickly. Pleased she'd gotten him to smile even a little, Donna asked, “So who is it then?”

     The little Chakdaw grew somber. He shook his head, then drew a finger across his throat. Donna winced. “Right, so the new bosses killed him off.” She leaned back, surveying the cave, all the Chakdaws standing together. Her voice softened as she continued, “Still, you all haven't done too bad for yourselves. Using the tunnels to stay safe, share food when no one's looking. You're all working together to keep each other safe. And us, strangers you don't even know. You brought us here instead of to your bosses. That was really brave.” For a moment, the terror left Korris's eyes, his expression softening into a grateful smile.

     “It's more than a lot of people might have done.” Donna was surprised to hear Molly's voice. She turned to see the companion watching them, something unreadable in her expression. “People in that position, slaves to some big bad tyrant, some would turn on each other in ways you can't imagine. You guys have done alright for yourselves.” With that, she turned back to her pacing, leaving Donna to mull over her words. She'd meant s \more than she'd said, that was for sure. Not for the first time, Donna wondered what is was that woman had seen and gone through to make her like this. Could traveling with the Doctor really change a person like that?

     Had she been wrong to come after all?

SCENEBREAK

     The Werack turned to glare at the two Chakdaws still cowering by the door. “Where are your people?” he snapped in sharp growl, causing the Chakdaws to flinch. “The mines are supposed to be open by now. Go now!” The Chakdaws skittered off as fast as their paws could carry them, slipping out the door they'd come through. It slammed shut with a loud _clunk_.

     The Doctor wasn't going to admit it, especially not to the exceedingly smug detective currently beside him, but he was a little teensy bit worried. Their guides were gone, and that clunk was probably the door locking behind them. Not a problem for his screwdriver, but they'd have to get to the door first, and the Werack stood between them and it.

     The alien's lips twitched into a smirk. He had them cornered and he knew it. “You should not have come here,” he rumbled in a deep growl, still looming threateningly over the Time Lord.

     As the Werack approached, claws extended, the Doctor held up his hands. “Listen, far as I can see it's just you overseeing this tribe, one against two, hardly seems fair,” he babbled, trying to stall, to figure out how exactly to get him and Sherlock out of this one. “Not to mention all the Chakdaws. No need to do anything rash, to get anyone hurt, so how about we just work out your terms of surrender, eh?”

     The Werack smirked. “Or, I could just kill you.”

     The Doctor sighed. That never worked. “Fair enough,” he allowed.

     The Werack bared his fangs, then lunged, claws extended. The Doctor leaped back, narrowly avoiding the creature's claws. As the Werack skittered after him, he ducked behind the throne, working to keep it between him and the creature. He had to duck as the creature swiped at him with claws extended. He clenched his teeth, feeling a brief rush of irritation. It would be lovely if people stopped trying to kill him all the time. Just for a little bit.

     “Doctor!” The Time Lord hadn't noticed Sherlock slip off before the fight. He saw the detective standing by the door, which he'd gotten open, evidently by picking the lock. The Doctor shoved the throne towards the Werack, distracting him momentarily, before making a break for the door. The Werack's long, wiry arms scrambled to grab at the Doctor, but the Time Lord managed to reach the door, slipping past and slamming it behind him. He pulled out his sonic and quickly zapped the door, locking it again. Stuffing it back into his coat, he told Sherlock, “Run!”

SCENEBREAK

     Suddenly, all the Chakdaws tensed, focused on the tunnel the travelers had come from. Donna and Molly both looked up, wondering whether the Doctor had returned yet. The ginger woman felt a stab of worry when only the two Chakdaws who had led them away scurrying back down the tunnel. There was no sign of either the Doctor or Sherlock.

     Molly stiffened. “Where's the Doctor?” she asked sharply. The Chakdaws ignored her, signaling urgently to their tribemates. There was a murmur of panic in the crowd, all the Chakdaws sharing wide-eyed looks, before turning to stare at the two humans.

     Donna felt a pang of worry. Something had clearly gone wrong with the Doctor and Sherlock's little meeting. “What is it? What's happened?”

     The Chakdaws ignored her again. One by one, they all hurried out the tunnel, leaving only Korris and the humans. He glanced down the tunnel, then back at them, holding up a hand, palm facing them in a clear _stay here_ gesture.

     Molly let out a snort. “Not a chance.” Korris sighed, then held out his hand again, eyes pleading her to listen. She shook her head. “We're not sitting this one out,” she told him firmly.

     In a softer voice, Donna added, “Listen, the Doctor and Sherlock've clearly gotten themselves in trouble, the idiots. They need our help.”

     Korris sighed, hesitating for a moment, before finally beckoning them towards the tunnel with a paw. As the two women followed him, Donna cursed the Doctor internally. _Where the hell have you gone now, spaceman?_

SCENEBREAK

     The Doctor and Sherlock hurried out of the icy palace, tearing across the camp to reach one of the huts. The two travelers slipped inside, hidden from sight, safe for the moment. They could hear the doors of the palace being thrown open, the howl of the enraged Werack as it skittered after them.

     The detective quickly pulled aside the nest near the back of the cave, revealing another tunnel. The Doctor slipped into the tunnel, followed by Sherlock, who pulled the nest back over the hole to cover it up. They could hear the Werack moving around outside, barging into each hut to look for them. They waited with bated breath.

     After a few minutes, the Werack gave a furious shriek, then his skittering faded, followed by the slam of the palace door. The Doctor let out a slow breath, a grin creeping onto his face. He laughed lightly, earning a raised eyebrow from Sherlock. “Well, that didn't go well,” he chuckled. Now that he had all the answers he needed, he felt the thrill of adventure and danger again.

     The detective let out a snort, lips curling into a little smirk. “Not particularly.” Then he grew serious again. “So, these Weracks, who are they?”

     The Time Lord shrugged. “Not anyone I know specifically, just another species I've run across,” he explained. “Not especially powerful or intelligent, though they're a good bit stronger than humans.”

     “Clearly,” Sherlock observed drily.

     “A fairly organized species, I guess,” the Doctor added, racking his brain to figure out what might help against them. “Only seems to be the one Werack here, but it's only one tribe, and a small one at that. I'm guessing he's the overseer.”

     Sherlock nodded with understanding. “He's the boss of this plantation, or what have you, but he answers to a higher boss?”

     “That's what I'm thinking,” the Doctor confirmed. “There was probably some big invasion force, but now they've settled into a system.” His voice turned hard as he continued, “They only see the Chakdaws as slaves, so yeah, the plantation metaphor fits. You only need a few Weracks to keep the Chakdaws under control, and you get to spread your forces more thinly. There's probably some big boss sitting somewhere, all we've got right now is his underling. They've probably got one of them with every tribe on the planet.”

     The detective narrowed his eyes. “So what are we supposed to do?”

     The Doctor shrugged. “Oh, you know, save the day, help the Chakdaws win their world back. The usual.”

     “And how is that our business?” Sherlock asked stiffly. The Doctor looked at him in surprise. “You're a Time Lord, this isn't your planet. Why do you care who lives here?”

     The Time Lord felt a tug of frustration. Sherlock might be a companion now, but he was still insufferable sometimes. The Doctor couldn't keep the edge from his voice as he replied, “Oh, I don't know, maybe because I have a conscience?”

     Sherlock snorted. “So you just go around looking for helpless people to save?”

     “Don't you?” the Time Lord countered.

     The detective rolled his eyes. “I'm hardly doing it out of mindless sympathy,” he retorted. “You of all people, Doctor, should know there's no use caring about saving people. You walk through history, you see how it all begins and ends. In all your nine hundred years, you must have realized by now that you can't save anyone. They all die in the end, one way or another. All civilizations fall, all people die, all memories are forgotten. You can't save them, all you can do is prolong the inevitable. So what's the point of caring at all? One day, the Chakdaws will be gone, faded to dust. What will this pointless victory mean then?”

     The Doctor stared evenly back at the detective. “It'll mean that someone cared,” he said simply. “That a few children will live better lives, that one civilization will march on a little while longer.”

     Sherlock smirked. “Like I said, hardly worth anything.”

     “Oh, I don't know,” the Doctor drawled. “You ask me, it's worth everything there is.”

     The detective just rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed. Undeterred, the Doctor grinned at the detective. “You think in grand terms too much, Sherlock. You have to look at the little things. A person's life may not mean a whole lot to you, but it matters a great deal to them, and that's important. Really, an ordinary life is the most important thing there is.”

     “It's not like those lives will ever be remembered in the end.”

     The Doctor shook his head. “It's not about being remembered, Sherlock. What's the good of being remembered when you're gone? When you're dead, you're dead. No, it's about living your life while you have it. That's what I work to save. And that's what you do too.” The detective snorted, but the Doctor shook his head. “No, no, don't give me that 'I only solve crimes out of boredom' bollocks. If that were true, you'd've been a criminal, not a detective. Less people to deal with that day, less criticism, and much more dangerous and challenging. A man who didn't care at all, that's the path he'd take, don't you think?”

     Sherlock just glared at him. “Enough. Let's just get back to the cave.” As he pushed past the Doctor, the Time Lord couldn't help but count the conversation as a victory.

     Hopefully, Sherlock had heard what he'd been saying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, another update. Sorry for the wait, again, but this time it's not nearly as bad.
> 
> Introducing: the POV of Donna Noble! Yeah, since she's now one of the main companions, I figured she more than deserved her own POV. Sherlock, however, is not getting a POV any time soon for two reasons. A) He's only a temporary companion until the whole Moriarty mess is taken care of, and B) it's hard enough writing him from other character's POV's, there is no way I'm writing straight from his complicated, brilliant, wordy head.
> 
> Yeah, I'm not entirely sure where the whole meaning-of-life conversation between Sherlock and the Doctor came from. It wasn't even going to be there, but then I realized I really didn't have Sherlock doing much, and I tried to think of what to have him say, and I came up with a tough question, and I had to figure out how the Doctor would answer, and it kinda grew from there. So yeah, enjoy the philosophizing. If that's a word.


	14. The Snows of Paldoon: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Sherlock try to find Donna and Molly, who are off following the Chakdaws.

     Donna and Molly followed the Chakdaws into the tunnels, Korris padding nervously by their side. No one spoke. The only sound was the quiet pattering of the Chakdaws' pawsteps on the icy ground. Korris stayed beside Donna, looking up at her every so often with wide, anxious eyes. She gave him a reassuring smile each time, even if she didn't feel particularly good about what they were doing.

     She had no idea where the Chakdaws were leading them. The Doctor and Sherlock were gone, and if Molly had any idea what was going on, she didn't say.

     The other companion followed the aliens with an unreadable expression, gaze sharply scanning the Chakdaws. Donna wondered what was going through the girl's head. Was she trying to figure out what was controlling the Chakdaws? Where they were going? Where the Doctor was? Did she have any guesses, or was she as clueless as Donna. Whatever the case was, she clearly wasn't in a chatty mood. Donna gave a slight, irritated huff, crossing her arms over her chest. _If she has any clue what's going on here, she better damn well say so,_ the temp grumbled internally. _None of that not-explaining-things-'til-the-last-minute crap the Doctor loves to pull._

     They were walking in the tunnels for a few minutes before Chakdaws started breaking off from the group one by one, waddling off into small, offshoot tunnels. The group grew smaller and smaller, until it was only Korris left. He led them into the tunnel that led back up into his hut. Once they were all up, he poked his head nervously outside the hut, checking for something, before waving the humans over, leading them outside.

     Out in the open, Chakdaws were scurrying out of their huts, swarming together and heading towards something Donna couldn't see. Korris quickly led them into the thick of the crowd, though since all the Chakdaws were hip-height at best, they weren't very well hidden. They let themselves be led around the edge of the camp by the crowd, until they were able to see their destination. It looked like some sort of den or cave opening in the ground, much larger than any of the tunnel openings any of the travelers had seen so far. The Chakdaws began scurrying down into the tunnel, the shade of the cave mouth swallowing them up. Donna and Molly shared an uneasy glance, but allowed the aliens to lead them down into the icy tunnel.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The moment the Doctor and Sherlock returned to the underground cavern, the Time Lord knew no one had been there for several minutes. He let out a slight growl of frustration, starting round the cavern with a hand running distractedly through his head. “Right. So much for staying here. Why can't anyone just stay where I tell them too?” he asked no one in particular.

     Sherlock was crouching by the tunnel they'd just come from, a thoughtful crinkle in his brow. Without warning, he bounced up to his feet. “Did you see a mine coming in?” he asked out of the blue.

     The Doctor had forgotten the Werack's words to the Chakdaws, ordering them to the mines. “No, but it's gotta be close.” He pulled out his sonic screwdriver, waving it around the walls experimentally.

     The detective let out a snort. “Oh, don't bother with that.” The Doctor back at him in surprise. “The mines were made on the Werack's orders. There's no way the Chakdaws built them to connect to any of these tunnels, not when these are supposed to be hidden from the Weracks. Too likely to be discovered, and those cozy little furballs did not look like risk takers.”

     The Time Lord ignored the detective's condescending tone and considered his point. “You're right. No, they'd try to keep it as far from here as they could, but it'd have to be close, too, in walking distance of the camp.”

     “The Werack will be there already,” Sherlock pointed out. “He'll want to keep an eye on them. His intimidation is his power over them, so he'll always want to make his presence known, make it seem like he's always watching them. He'll also be watching out for us, of course.”

     The Doctor nodded. “That give us time to come up with a plan.”

     “What plan?” Sherlock asked dubiously.

     “Dunno.” He hopped to his feet, turning to face a less-than-amused detective. “Hence the coming-up-with-it part.” The Time Lord flashed a grin, then turned to the tunnel, taking off at the familiar run. “Allons-y!”

**SCENEBREAK**

     They were led far down into the darkness, down and down a winding tunnel, until they were far under the planet's surface. There were lanterns hanging sparsely along the walls, offering dim, poor lighting.

     Once Donna's eyes adjusted to the light, she grew even more curious. The tunnels were much, much wider than the ones from before, and more crudely cut, with odd edges and shapes poking out from the walls. Chakdaws were lined up against the walls, digging into the hard ice with their bare claws. The temp hadn't noticed before the long, tough claws the Chakdaws had, which seemed to be retractable like a cat's. The creatures tore into the ice, digging, for what she wasn't certain.

     The companions were led quickly off into a side tunnel, stashed away in the dark by a fearful Korris. He held up a hand in a clear _stay here_ gesture, then scurried off back to the main tunnel. Donna watched him go with no short amount of irritation. She was getting sick of being told to stay behind.

     The temp was about to turn to Molly and suggest going back out and figuring out what was going on when she heard an angry growl. “You're all late!” There was a strange skittering noise, like a really large insect, which only grew louder. Curious, Donna edged closer to the entrance to the main tunnel, silently followed by Molly. She dared to poke her head around the wall, trying not to be seen, but needing to see what was going on.

     She drew in a sharp breath. A weird new creature was in the mines, something that looked like the cross between a centipede, a centaur, and a dragon. It was large, intimidating, and was looming over the trembling Chakdaws. Molly looked out below her, eyes narrowing at the sight of the creature.

     The new alien watched the progress of the digging Chakdaws, pacing further down the cave, looming over the terrified creatures. An ugly snarl twisted its features. “Progress has been poor here,” it growled, its eyes glinting ominously. “Pick up the pace, or there'll be consequences. I want at least three dozen from each of you by day's end, or else.”

      _Three dozen what?_ Donna wondered. She craned her neck to get a better view. The Chakdaws were still hacking away at the ice, but eventually, some would pull what looked like precious stones and minerals away from the ice, setting them in hollow little ditches behind them. She felt a rush of anger as she understood. The Chakdaws were being enslaved and terrified, all for the sake of greed and some useless stones.

     She felt Molly tense beside her. No doubt the other companion had come to the same conclusion. The only problem was, what could they do about it? The weird insect-thing was too big for them to fight alone, and the Chakdaws clearly weren't going to be much help, they were too scared. There weren't a lot of options.

     Donna groaned internally. _Where the hell are you, Spaceman?_

**SCENEBREAK**

     Since the Werack was in the mines, the Doctor and Sherlock were free to move freely about the camp. They made their way out of the tunnels, returning to the now-empty ice palace.

     The Doctor took out his sonic, scanning as he picked a hallway at random and started walking. "What exactly are we looking for?" Sherlock asked.

     Still scanning, the Doctor replied, "The Chakdaws are still living in huts and carving ice with their claws, but the Weracks, they've got spaceships, weapons, advanced technology. And that means..."

     "Communication," Sherlock finished, eyes lighting up with understanding. "They've spread their troops out thin, one man to a camp, they have to be communicating closely to keep control over the Chakdaws."

     "And to keep tabs on their shipments," the Time Lord added. "It's all got to be going back to the home planet. So, cut off their communications, the Werack's stranded.”

     “Doesn't help with the Werack already here,” Sherlock pointed out.

     “Yeah, but it stops it from bringing reinforcements in.” The Time Lord paused, the sonic picking up signs of the tech he was looking for. He turned down another hallway, eventually reaching a room where an advanced computer was set up. The Doctor grinned, twirling his sonic screwdriver expertly in his hand. “Right, let's get this done, then we can go get Molly and Donna out of there. They must be in the mines, and they don't know the Werack's coming.”

     Sherlock chuckled. “Molly can take care of herself,” he assured the Doctor. The Time Lord looked at him curiously. Neither Molly or Sherlock had said much about the Year That Never Was, and the Doctor hadn't pushed, no matter how much he'd wondered. He hadn't exactly had the best year either, being kept as a hobbled old man and the Master's prisoner, and he knew Molly's year had to have been much worse. If she didn't want to talk about it, he could respect that. Besides, she was Molly Hooper, the Woman Who Walked the Earth. She'd pull through.

     He gave a rueful half-grin. “Still, not exactly the first trip I wanted for Donna.”

     The detective snorted. “Oh, she'll be fine, as long as she can stop blustering about long enough to stay hidden.” The Doctor rolled his eyes. Sherlock and Donna weren't going to get along any time soon, he could see.

     But as long as they were all safe on the TARDIS, he'd be happy to let the pair of them bicker their hearts out to the end of time.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Donna and Molly stayed in the side tunnel, watching as the Chakdaws worked. The overseer swept up and down the tunnels, gone for minutes at a time. The Chakdaws were pretty far spaced out, moving along the walls as they came up empty of gems.

     Time passed, the companion wasn't sure how much. Could've been minutes, could've been hours. It wasn't like watching Chakdaws dig through ice over and over was the most captivating sight. She could've laughed. She'd left the cavern so she wasn't just sitting around doing nothing while the Doctor was in danger, and here she was, sitting around doing nothing. When she'd signed onto the TARDIS, she hadn't expected this much sitting and waiting. It made her feel restless, useless. The Doctor and Sherlock could be in serious danger, and she was sitting on the sideline, though considering insect boy was in the same tunnels, maybe she should've been more worried about herself.

     Without warning, part of the tunnel collapsed, snow raining down into the tunnel, blocking it off. Donna froze, clasping a hand over her mouth to keep from crying; there were at least three Chakdaws down that tunnel. The remaining Chakdaws looked up in alarm, but none moved to help their trapped friends. The overseer skittered down from higher up in the tunnels, letting out a sharp hiss. It glared around at the remaining Chakdaws, eyes flashing with fury. “Idiots!” it snarled, causing the Chakdaws to shrink back in fear. It swatted a Chakdaw to the side, sending it skidding across the ground, shoulder sliced by the creature's claws. “I have no need for workers who can't build solid walls.” It turned and began to skitter away, snapping, “Keep working!” over its shoulder.

     Donna waited until the creature's skittering faded away to nothing, then darted out of cover, racing to the collapsed snow. Molly followed quickly, helping Donna scoop the snow out of the way, digging through the pile. The Chakdaws watched them nervously, still working. Donna turned and looked imploringly at them over her shoulder. “Come on, don't just sit there, help us!” she hissed desperately. They all shared uneasy glances, but none moved. Only Korris came forward, silently joining them in their digging.

     They managed to pull all three Chakdaws out of harm's way, bringing them into the side passage Molly and Donna were hiding behind. They were winded, but alive. As Molly checked on them and made sure they were tucked away and safe, Donna turned to Korris. “So, that happen a lot here then?” she asked with an uncomfortable chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. The Chakdaw nodded, sadness glinting in his eyes. He glanced over to where the three victims were being checked over by Molly, expression filled with guilt.

     Molly looked up at the remaining Chakdaws, expression hard. “You just sat there,” she said in a low voice. “They could've died, and you just watched and did _nothing_.” Donna looked back at her in surprise. She'd expected the companion to be the voice of reason and understanding, but there was a dark anger in Molly's expression, rage in her tensed posture and clenched fists.

     Donna would've told her to back off, but she was angry too. That insect thing was intimidating, true, but how could anyone just sit back and watch while people were dying? _Nothing_ excused that. “Listen, I don't know what the hell that thing is out there, but there's gotta be at least twenty of you. You can beat him together!”

     The Chakdaws shrunk back, terror flashing in their eyes, shaking their heads. Donna felt a rush of frustration. “Anything's better than sitting back and watching this happen!” she snapped.

     The aliens shuffled back, looking down at the ground with fearful, haunted expressions. Donna's anger softened into pity. What could that insect thing have done to make them so afraid? She glanced back at Molly, trying to gauge her opinion, but the former pathologist was frozen, glare fixed at the ground, jaw clenching and unclenching, completely unfocused. Donna felt fear fluttering in her stomach. Looked like she was on her own for now.

     As she looked back at the collapsed tunnel, an idea came to her. “Korris,” she said slowly, “would you know how to make a cave-in like that happen?” The Chakdaw stared at her with wide eyes, comprehension and horror growing in his eyes. The other Chakdaws shuffled back, staring at her in fear. Clearly, they weren't a fan of her plan.

     Donna looked at them imploringly. She pushed her anger back, forcing her voice to be soft. Clearly, these aliens had been through hell. “Listen, the Doctor and us, we're here to help, we really are. We can get rid of bug boy out there, but we need your help. You wanna be saved? You have to help save yourselves.” She offered a reassuring grin as she told them, “This can be over, forever. Korris, you helped us save these guys, nothing happened, no one got in trouble. There's only one of them, you can take him on your own, you really can.”

     The Chakdaws shared quick glances, silently communicating. Donna waited with bated breath. These aliens had literally been terrified into silence. Would they really be willing to move past that?

     Finally, Korris gave a small nod, giving a stronger nod a few moments later. One by one, the rest of the Chakdaws followed suit. The companion let out a breath, a grin spreading across her face. “Right. Let's get started, then.”

     “We're bringing this whole mine down.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     All forms of communications outside the camp were now down. It had taken a bit, but the Doctor had hacked in and shut down everything, mucking it all up so badly there was no way it could be set up again. Satisfied, he and Sherlock headed out of the ice palace. “Right, time to find Donna and Molly,” the Doctor remarked as they headed out into the camp.

     It didn't take long to find the mines, not with the clear trail of Chakdaw pawprints leading straight to it. They stared down at the mouth of the tunnel for a few moments. Sherlock raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “It's almost certain we're about to walk into a trap,” he pointed out drily.

     “What, you got a better idea?” the Doctor asked ruefully. He looked down at the cave, eyebrows raised. “Ah well, here goes nothing.” They started down into the darkness.

     For a while, they saw nothing. It took a few minutes before they came upon the first of the Chakdaws. The creatures stared at them in horror, gesturing for them to go back, to run, but it was too late. Skittering echoed from further down the passage, and a familiar centipede-like alien appeared out of the shadows. It grinned, flashing sharpened teeth. “How perfect. I didn't think you'd be stupid enough to come down here on your own. Do you make a habit of walking into deathtraps?”

     The Doctor shrugged, keeping it non-chalant. “Only on Tuesdays,” he quipped.

     Predictably, the Werack lunged at them again. The Doctor jumped back, but Sherlock ducked under the Werack's swipe, coming around behind the creature. It ignored him, more focused on the Doctor, its challenger.

     The Doctor turned and started off doing what he was best at – running.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Donna and Molly heard what was going on. They hurried further up the cave, staying close to the wall and out of sight. They saw the overseer going after the Doctor, but Sherlock was further back, closer to them. “Sherlock!” Molly hissed. The detective turned, coming over once he saw them.

     As he got closer, Donna grumbled, “Where the hell have you two been?”

     “Actually doing something useful,” the detective retorted, “Tell me, how's sitting in a tunnel been going?”

     “Oi, listen you -”

     Before Donna could launch into a proper fight, Molly interrupted, telling Sherlock in a serious tone, “Listen, we have a plan. We're gonna blow the whole tunnel system, but we need to get everyone out of here, including the overseer. Think you can lure him outside?”

     “Why?” Sherlock asked bluntly. “Wouldn't you want him inside when it collapses?”

     Molly tensed, but after a moment she shook her head. “No,” she said reluctantly. “We have to give it a chance.”

     Sherlock still looked unconvinced, but Molly gave him a firm glare, and finally he nodded. “We'll get him outside.” He took off down the tunnels, back after the insect thing.

     Donna turned to Molly, who was staring off with that unfocused gaze again. “Hey, you alright?” she asked in a gentle tone.

     The companion gave a shaky nod. “Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,” she said dismissively. “I just... it just reminds me of something, that's all.” She turned away from Donna, shoulders squared and chin lifted, an almost military stance. “Come on, we need to get the Chakdaws all out of here.”

     Donna watched her go for a few moments, not sure whether to feel worried or just sympathetic. Molly had clearly gone through something like this before, but it had to have been more than just a quick Doctor adventure, it had far too much impact on her.

     As she followed the other companion, Donna resolved to find out what had happened.

**SCENEBREAK**

     As the Doctor raced through the winding tunnels, trying to dodge the Werack, he heard a familiar voice. “Doctor!” He saw Sherlock running towards him from a side tunnel, calling out, “Doctor, we need to lead the Werack outside!”

     The Time Lord didn't ask why. Clearly, there was some sort of plan in place, and there wasn't time to talk about it. As Sherlock joined him, he turned to face the Werack, who was several paces behind, a taunting grin on his face. “Oi! Lizard-face! Might want to catch me soon, wouldn't want your slaves to see you fail to catch one miserable little bi-pedal.” As the Werack howled with rage, he bolted, turning back onto a passage that would lead to the main tunnel.

     They finally made it outside the tunnels, out into the sharp, bright sunlight. They split off as the Werack came roaring out of the tunnel, ready to dodge and confuse the creature together, but there was no need. A flood of Chakdaws came rushing out of the tunnels, pushing past the Werack, to its fury. “Where are you going?!” it roared, glaring down at the creatures. “Get back in there!” Molly and Donna rushed out as well, past the distracted Werack, coming to the Doctor and Sherlock's side.

     Without wanrning, there was a deep rumbling, and the snow around the entrance fell in. It looked like the ground itself had caved it, leaving a crater-like ditch. The Doctor watched with a growing grin as he understood. “Oh, that's brilliant,” he remarked. They'd collapsed the mines, the source of the Werack's greed.

     The Werack let out a shriek of fury. “NO!” It raced towards the fallen mine, shoveling snow aside, but the entrance was gone. With a roar, it whirled back around, rising out off all four arms to loom over the Chakdaws. “WHO DID THIS?!” it screeched.

     The Chakdaws flinched back instinctively, but Donna stepped up beside them, followed by the rest of the travelers. “We did,” she said firmly, even as the creature loomed over her, even as her own heart pounded with fear. “We all did. They're not sitting back and letting you walk all over them anymore, and we're helping.”

     The Werack screeched furiously, shooting forward to strike Donna, but before he could, Korris raced towards him, grabbing onto one of his centipede-like legs. The Werack whirled to face him with a shriek, but before he could retaliate, the other Chakdaws followed suit, swarming over the Werack, forcing it flat against the ground, thrashing and struggling. The creature let out a howl, but it was defeated, and it knew. “You'll pay for this,” it hissed, glaring straight at the Doctor.

     “Actually, we won't,” the Time Lord corrected him cheerfully. “See, we cut off your communications. No one to call for help to. You're on your own.”

     The Werack hissed, but at last stopped struggling, defeated. The Chakdaws began dragging him off towards the ice palace. The Doctor wondered with amusement at the irony; the creature was to be imprisoned in the palace he'd commissioned.

     Korris, and the few Chakdaws who'd stayed, turned back to the travelers. Korris swallowed, then, in a low, scratchy voice, he whispered, “Thank you.”

     The Doctor beamed. “See? I knew you could do it!” He looked after where the Werack had been taken. “Well, looks like you have your camp back. What'll you do now?”

     Korris lifted his chin, suddenly looking stronger than the Doctor had seen him before. “Few us will travel,” he said haltingly, “spread word... free camps... take planet. All free.” He reached out, putting a furry paw on the Time Lord's hand. “You go... we're grateful, always owe. We fight now. You go.”

     The Time Lord knew he was right. The Chakdaws could take their own planet back, and it was time to get back to the TARDIS. He gave the Chakdaw a warm smile. “Take care of yourself there, Korris.”

     The Chakdaw nodded, then turned to Donna, expression growing somber. “Thank you Donna... your words, made strong, made brave. You're right. Had to save selves. Thank you.”

     Donna's expression faltered, and for a moment she looked uncertain, overwhelmed by such thanks. “No problem,” she finally managed.

     As the travelers turned away, the Doctor put an arm around each of the companions on either side of him, grinning. It may not have been the first trip he'd wanted for Donna, but all in all, it hadn't turned out that badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "All in all, it hadn't turned out that badly." Well, maybe from your point of view, Doctor, but from mine this whole bloody episode is nowhere near as good as I wanted it to be. I'm once again writing through block, and once again I've taken way too long to post this chapter. I am so, so sorry for the crappy quality and lateness, something I've been saying too much lately. Hopefully things will get better with the next episode. Which one will that be? I don't know yet. Sorry. So sorry. *hides behind laptop*
> 
> On another note, I started another story, a SuperWho story with Rose Tyler after Doomsday. If you're interested, check it out here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/925084


	15. Ol' Broomtail: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock gets to pick the next trip.

     "You want to pick the next trip? _You_? Seriously?"

     It had been three months since that first trip with Donna. Since then, the former temp had melded nicely into their little group on the TARDIS. She was always chastising the Doctor, never taking any of his crap, but the two were undoubtably close. Molly had been a bit jealous at first, but she and the Doctor were still close as ever, and their dynamic hadn't changed. It was more like the dynamic had been extended to include Donna. If she was the Doctor's little sister, an analogy she'd made many times before, then Donna was the big sister, the one who pushed him and challenged him but in the end was one of his closest friends.

     She supposed that metaphor continued to herself. As she'd gotten to know the fiery-tempered companion, Molly had been surprised to realize how glad she was to have Donna as a friend. Donna was loud and brash and stubborn, but she was also incredibly warm. The trip to Paldoon had shown Molly just how caring and empathetic Donna could really be. The Doctor was her best friend, and he'd been the first person to really care about her, but Donna was undoubtably better at reading people. She could tell when something was wrong, and she was far more tactful about it than the Time Lord. Sometimes it was good to be able to talk to someone, someone who knew the right things to say.

     But she still held back. Donna was trying to find out more about what she'd been referring to on Paldoon, what that situation had reminded her of. It wasn't like the Year That Never Was was some kind of big secret or anything. For whatever reason, though, she didn't want to talk to Donna about it. It just wasn't something she particularly wanted to think about again.

     Of course, just because she'd become a proper part of the group didn't mean she wasn't bickering with Sherlock any less.

     "Seems fair enough to me," the detective replied with a smirk. "I'm the only one so far who hasn't made a request."

     They were all hanging out in the console room, having had a lazy morning with an elaborate breakfast coordinated by Donna and the Doctor, and some lazing about in the library for Molly while the others milled around the TARDIS. Donna seemed to really like the garden room, while Sherlock seemed to have come to some sort of agreement with the TARDIS that allowed him to access some of her computers and go through some of her files. The Doctor had been who knows where, probably fiddling the the TARDIS engine or something.

     Molly loved the action and adventure when they landed, but still, lazy days like that on the TARDIS were nice. The seclusion of the library was comforting, with her spot curled in the corner of the couch, facing the fireplace, snuggled into the cushions, a good book in hand. No matter how much trouble she was having getting used to normal life after the Year, the library always made her feel at peace.

     Now, however, it was time for another trip, and apparently even that was something Donna and Sherlock could bicker about.

     Donna whirled to face the Doctor, shooting an accusing glare in his direction. "You let _him_ ," she jabbed a finger in Sherlock's direction, "drive the bloody TARDIS?!"

     The Doctor's eyes widened with fear. He threw his hand up defensively, backing up a few paces. "He'd not gonna drive -" he started, but Sherlock cut him off.

     "Really, I don't see why you're so surprised," the detective said coolly. "After all, he's let _you_ pick our destination before. He could hardly make a worse choice than that."

     Donna narrowed her eyes. "What do you even want to pick a trip for anyway? You're not exactly one to be picky about the scenery."

     Sherlock just smirked. "I hardly expect you to understand that there's more than pretty sights to be seen out there."

     Molly threw the Doctor a look that was half exasperated, half amused. They'd had three months of this. Three months of Donna Noble and Sherlock Holmes in the same TARDIS, and those two seemed to use _any_ excuse to quarrel. Sherlock liked to point out Donna's inferior intelligence to his own and her general loud and blustering behavior, while Donna called him out for being an arrogant, snobbish asshat... which, if Molly was being honest, wasn't an untrue description.

     Donna rolled her eyes, letting out a huff. "I suppose it doesn't matter what you pick, you'll just piss people off and get us all in trouble no matter where we go."

     "Like you're all charm and grace," the detective returned sarcastically.

     "All right," the Doctor interrupted loudly, clapping his hands together loudly once. "My TARDIS, my rules, and I say Sherlock gets to pick." Molly held back a chuckle at the Doctor having to break up the fight in an almost mother-like fashion, breaking up squabbling kids. "Sherlock, where is it you wanted to go, so we can actually get there before the universe ends."

     Donna was still fuming, but the detective turned to face the Doctor, still smirking somewhat. "We've been visiting the past quite a lot," he explained, "or else alien planets in the present. We haven't been to the future since the Master." Molly tensed, and Donna looked at her curiously. "I want to visit somewhere in the future where I can talk to someone about the technology of the time and the social advancements."

     The Doctor nodded, looking thoughtful. "The future, hmm? Can do!" In a sudden burst of energy, he started up the TARDIS flight sequence, dashing around the console to reach everything. Molly let him do it himself this time, content to sit back and watch the Time Lord, and watch the detective and former temp continue to glower at each other. She still felt a bit groggy from her cozy morning in the library; hopefully a trip off the TARDIS would wake her up.

     The TARDIS began the familiar shaking and shuddering as she was thrown into flight. By now, all her passengers knew how to keep their balance through the bumpy flight, so the ship finished her flight without any incident. As the shuddering came to a halt, the Doctor dashed over to the door, throwing it open and popping his head outside. Molly stifled a laugh. The Time Lord sure seemed hyper today.

     After a few moments, he came back in. "Right, hold on." He bounced back to the console, tweaking a few controls. The TARDIS shuddered for a brief second, then still. He hurried back to the door, poked his head out again, then grinned. He looked back at them. "Right where I was aiming, some five hundred years in the future," he said proudly. "Let's go then."

     Sherlock was the first to the door, followed quickly by Donna and Molly. When the former pathologist stepped out of the blue box, she felt the usual thrill of excitement and awe, even two years after the adventures had begun.

     They were in some sort of hallway, the TARDIS blocking most of the passageway. They seemed to be somewhere high-tech, judging by all the wires and pipes running over their heads, and how the whole hallway was metal. It all seemed somewhat dull and rusty, however.

     Donna looked around with interest. "Not very clean in here, is it?" she remarked. "Where are we then?"

     Sherlock smirked. "We're on a spaceship," he informed her smugly. "Obviously."

     The former temp rolled her eyes. "Of course, why did I even bother asking?" she asked no one in particular, throwing her arms up in exasperation. "Shoulda known you'd take the first chance to show off. How d'ya know this isn't just what houses look like in the future, hmm?"

     Molly rolled her eyes. It hasn't been a minute and they were arguing again. She tuned out as Sherlock launched into his explanation, instead turning to the Doctor with a raised eyebrow. "Another spaceship?" she inquired. "Been a bit since we've been on one of them."

     The Doctor chuckled. "The last one didn't really go that well for us, did it?"

     "Didn't we nearly fall into a sun?" she asked with a laugh.

     He laughed. "Yeah, and the time before that I nearly got pulled into a black hole by the devil." Molly blinked in surprise at that, but didn't bother asking. None of the Doctor's stories really fazed her anymore.

     Without warning, Molly heard the click of a gun, and a low voice ordering, "Hands up."

     The companion stiffened. Her hand twitched automatically to her hip, where she'd kept her gun during the Year, but she hadn't had it there since the Year's end. Slowly, she and the others turned to face the newcomer.

     A woman with short, choppy blonde hair with dark and pale, silvery streaks in it was evenly pointing a gun at them. Her eyes, one hazel, one a silvery-blue, were cold, her gun hand dangerously still. She wore a white blouse, with a black vest, a brown, open leather vest over that, brown leather fingerless gloves, and black pants with a brown belt slung lazily across her hips.

     In a clipped, American accent, she asked them, "Now, you all want to tell me what the hell you're all doing on my ship?"

     Instead of answering her, Donna turned to glare at the Doctor. "You and your bloody luck," she said with exasperation, "of course we start the day with guns in our face."

     Molly didn't hear the Doctor's indignant reply. She was too focused on the gun being pointed at them. Without meaning to, she found herself assessing the situation. The woman wasn't an amateur - she was used to holding a gun. So her threat wasn't empty by any means. Disarming techniques flashed through her mind, but she forced herself to stay stock-still.

     The Doctor slowly lowered one of the hands over his head, offering it to the woman. "Hello, I'm the Doctor!" he introduced himself cheerfully. She just glared at him until his grin wavered and he lowered his hand. He gestured to his companions. "Molly Hooper, Sherlock Holmes, and Donna Noble."

     The woman just rolled her eyes. "Lovely. Nice to meet you all," she remarked sarcastically. "Now, if you could get back to my question and tell me what the _shee-niou guay_ you're doing on my ship?"

     Molly blinked in surprise, momentarily distracted from the danger. Why hadn't her words translated into English? The Doctor didn't look surprised, however. Instead, he slowly went to pull something from coat. The woman's gun hand tensed, but he just pulled out his psychic paper, flipping it open for her to see. "We're passengers. See?" He waved it a little for emphasis. "Traveling missionaries, just, you know, spreading the good word around. Sign said you were looking for passengers, so we just popped on in. Got a bit lost looking for the passenger dorms though."

     The woman glared at him suspiciously. "What, you just waltzed right in?" she asked dubiously.

     The Time Lord shrugged, grinning shamelessly. "Yeah, bit of a bad habit of mine, just walking in anywhere," he admitted cheerfully. "I'm hopeless, honestly. 'Incorrigible''s the word they use, at the... er, abbey."

     The woman narrowed her eyes, but in the end she seemed to decide he was harmless. She relaxed, slowly lowering the gun. "Right, just knock next time, alright?" she grumbled as she put her gun back in her holster.

     "Will do," Molly said evenly, still staring warily at the gun.

     The woman followed her gaze. "Ah, right. Sorry 'bout this," she gestured to the gun, "You can't be too careful in these parts. Thieves and all that." She stuck out a hand, which Molly warily shook. "Tammy Jones, first mate." She shook the other travelers hands. "Come on, lemme introduce you to the rest of the crew." Her eyes flicked to the TARDIS behind them. "That yours?"

     The Doctor grinned, looking proudly back at the blue box. "Yep! It's an, er, memento of the abbey. Old, pretty much worthless, just a sentimental keepsake."

     Tammy raised an eyebrow skeptically, but after a moment she shrugged. "I'll get the twins to lug it to the cargo bay later. Just leave it for now. Come on." She started off down the hall.

     Before he could follow Tammy, Donna grabbed the Doctor's arm, stopping him. She hissed under her breath, "Traveling missionaries? Really, Doctor?"

     He shrugged. "What? It was the best I could think of. People in these times really don't take well to random strangers." The Time Lord held out an arm, smirking. "Shall we?"

     She just rolled her eyes. "You take us to the nicest places," she said sarcastically, but she was grinning when she took his arm. Molly took the other, and they set off after Tammy, Sherlock hanging back, as per usual.

     As they walked, Tammy looked back at them with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "I have to say," she commented casually, "ain't many preachers out this far. You looking to spread the word of your Lord on high to beggars and thugs?" There was some sort of accent in her voice - a drawl, Molly realized, sort of Western.

     The Doctor shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Oh, you know, just whoever needs it."

     Molly nodded as seriously as she could manage. "We're just simple messengers of the Lord," she deadpanned. "It's a very isolated life, not a lot of outside interaction. A lot of sitting." The Doctor smirked, and it took all of Molly's self-control not to laugh.

     Tammy snorted. "Yeah, well, if you're looking to discourage sin and greed, you ain't gonna find many takers out here, sorry to say. Not exactly God's country."

     "Why not?" Donna asked curiously.

     The first mate looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. "You really need to ask?" she asked incredulously.

     "Like I said, not a lot of outside interaction," Molly covered for her hastily. "We basically live like hermits. Haven't heard a peep from the outside world in years."

     The woman gave a harsh laugh. "That's some rock you've been living under if you haven't heard of the war." They looked at her eagerly so, with a shrug, she continued, "There was a civil war, government tried to pull all the planets under their rule, and they won. Outer planets weren't too happy with it, so those who aren't the government's favorite people tend to flock there. They ain't always the friendliest people, 'specially those trying to preach about someone telling them what to do."

     They finally reached a door further down the hallway. Tammy stopped in front of it, giving a slight grin. "This here's the cargo bay." As she started to open the door, she announced with fake grandeur, "Ladies and gentlemen, behind this door, the crew of _Ol' Broomtail_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Changed up the timelines a bit. Now it's been three months since Paldoon rather than one.
> 
> Yeah. I wasn't gonna go here. But I needed another episode between here and the Planet of the Ood, and how could I resist?
> 
> For those of you unaware of what I'm currently babbling about, this chapter is set in the universe of Firefly, the lovely, and sadly canceled, sci-fi. I made it somewhat subtle and vague as to whether it was in the Firefly 'verse, so you can ignore it if you want. This will be set a couple years after the Miranda thing.
> 
> And yes, I felt it was necessary to throw another episode in before the Planet of the Ood. Why? To say too much would be to spoil, but I will say that it has to do with building certain character relationships do they can be where they need to be for a later episode.
> 
> And on another note, look, a times update again, yay! I'll try to keep that up now. And now you all get to enjoy another original episode. Hopefully it'll turn out better than the last one.


	16. Ol' Broomtail: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team TARDIS meets the crew of _Ol' Broomtail_.

     Tammy led them into a large, spacious room, with a grated floor and smooth metal walls. A few people were crowded around a group of boxes, two men lugging them into a corner. A blond woman was telling them, "We'll have to tie these down. Don't need these goin' off in the middle of space."

     They all looked up as Tammy approached, the travelers in tow. "Tess, we've got passengers," the first mate informed the blond woman. She turned back to the travelers. "This is Captain Tess Jones, owner of _Ol' Broomtail_."

     "And your big sister," the captain added with amusement. She was a little taller than her sister, with darker blond hair that was pulled into a short braid, and hazel eyes. Molly could definitely see the similarities between the two women. Tess wore a light gray-brown jacket with the arm bunched back just above her elbows, with another two layers under that, gloves like her sister's, and black pants with a belt.

     The captain stuck out a hand for each of the travelers to shake. "Welcome," she said briskly, smiling a little stiffly. Molly got the feeling that dealing with customers wasn't usually her job. She gestured to the twins behind her. "This is Zack and Ryan Parton, they'll be taking care of your luggage in a minute."

     One of them let out a groan. "We just finished loading the cargo," one of them complained. They were definitely twins: both tall and lanky, with blond hair that was short and scruffy on the one who'd spoken, but longer and scruffy on the other. They both had green eyes and narrowed, freckled faces. The one who'd spoken wore a black t-short with a brown jacket over it, while the other wore a long-sleeved gray jacket over a white shirt.

     Tess turned to glare at them. "Yes, and now you'll be getting their luggage," she told them pointedly. "You gotta work for your stay here, Zack."

     The young man grinned. "You'd never throw me off," he informed her cheerfully. "I'm too pretty to fire." His brother Ryan said nothing, just smirking slightly at his brother's jokes.

     Tess just chuckled. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."

     "They've got a blue box that needs to be brought in," Tammy told them. "C'mon, I'll help." She led them out to the hallway where the TARDIS was parked, leaving the travelers alone with Tess. She gave them a tight smile. "Welcome to _Ol' Broomtail,_ folks. Sorry 'bout the mess in here, we're a merchant ship as well as a ferry, so we've got some cargo needs to be dropped off. Shouldn't interfere with your flight none, but it does tend to get a bit underfoot. Now where'd you all say you were headed?"

     The Doctor shrugged amiably. "Oh, nowhere in particular. We'll get off at whatever your next stop is."

     Tess looked at him a little strangely. "Alright. Can't say you'll find much of a welcome on Whitefall, but it's your call. I'll take you to the passengers dorms then, let you know where everything is and where you're allowed."

     "'Where we're allowed?'" Molly repeated dubiously.

     Something dangerous flashed in the captain's eyes. In an even tone, she reminded them, "Like I said, it's a merchant ship. Plenty of clutter lying around I don't need anyone trampling through. You understand, of course."

     Privately, Molly really wasn't that prepared to agree to that, but the Doctor just nodded easily, assuring her, "Of course, we won't be any trouble. But there is one thing." He threw an arm over Sherlock's shoulders, despite the detective glaring at him. "See, Sherlock here, he's a huge technology nut, can't get enough of it. Would it be too much if he could talk to someone about the ship and how it works?"

     Tess looked back at him with suspicion, but after a few moments she just shrugged. "Of course," she said evenly. She crossed over to one of the walls, where there was an intercom. She buzzed it on, her voice echoing in the cargo hold as she spoke into it. " _Ty, leave that nest of yours a minute, I need you in the cargo bay._ "

     She clicked it off, then turned back to her passengers. "Like I said, we're heading to Whitefall, so the trip should take about a week, give or take. We have two meals a day, nothing fancy, just the usual protein tryin' to pretend it's food. Pickings have been pretty slim, so I'm gonna have to ask you to stay out of the kitchen except for breakfast and dinner.”

     The Doctor nodded agreeably. “Of course. We won't be any trouble at all, promise. Quiet as a mouse.” Donna let out a snort at that, quickly covering it up with a cough when Tess looked at her.

     A young man approached from the wide hallway at the back of the cargo bay, a towel slung over one shoulder. He was short and scrawny, with messy, sruffy black hair that fell over his pale, milky blue eyes, which were covered by glasses. The man wore a white T-shirt with some sort of logo that Molly didn't recognize, along with long, khaki pants. His arms and face were dusted with grease and oil, and his already-messy hair was mussed and flattened on one side. He adjusted his glasses as he approached, dabbing at his face with the towel, without much effect. “I was in the middle of something, Tess,” he said briskly.

     “Ah yes, your eternal battle with _Ol' Broomtail_ to make her better than functioning,” the captain remarked with amusement. She turned back to her passengers. “Folks, this is Tyson Resor, our resident mechanic, and obsessive tinkerer. He's convinced himself he's going to fix up _Ol' Broomtail_ and make her some big, fancy cruise ship.”

     Ty sniffed. For someone covered in engine grease, he managed to look rather stuffy. “I merely want to sort out her wrinkles,” he explained stiffly.

     The captain chuckled. “And add extra miles, and add this, and that, and some extra lights.” She laughed at his stiff expression, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Come on Ty, this ship's older than you are, she's got kinks ain't never been sorted out. You fix one thing, 'nother gets broke. She ain't ever gonna be fancy by any stretch of the word.”

     The mechanic just shook his head. “Any ship can be something to be proud of, you work on her long enough. Now, was there something you needed, or did you just bring me out here to insult my work?”

     Tess pulled back. “Right. Ty, this is Sherlock Holmes.” She nodded towards the detective, who inclined his head slightly. “He'll be riding with us to Whitefall, and he's got a few questions about the ship.” She gave him a quick, warning glance. Molly guessed it meant something along the lines of, _Don't tell them too much._ The more she saw of this ship and its crew, the more uneasy she felt. Something was definitely off here.

     Ty hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. Come on, I can talk while I work.”

     The two started off, but before they could leave, the Doctor put a hand on the mechanic's shoulder to stop him. "Actually, better let Donna tag along too."

     The detective and the temp both whirled to glare at him, letting out angry "What?!"'s at the same time.

     Tess looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"

     The Time Lord grinned reassuringly. "Oh, we're trying to pick up as much mechanical knowledge as we can if we're gonna be traveling a bit is all, and we all need to learn.” Donna seemed to try to be setting him on fire with the heat of her glare, but he seemed completely oblivious.

     Ty looked uncertain, but after a few moments, Tess gave him a slight nod. He sighed. “Alright, fine. Fine. But let's get back, I've got work to do.” He led Sherlock and Donna away, the latter turning to throw a final, burning glare at the Doctor as she left.

     Once they were gone, the Doctor turned back to Captain Jones. “So, is that all the crew, then?”

     “Everyone 'cept the pilot, Mindy, and Shane,” the woman told him. “Mindy's flying right now, and Shane's probably in his bunk. You probably won't be seeing a lot of him, he pretty much keeps to himself. Now, to your rooms. Unless you plan on sharing?”

     The two quickly shook their heads. “Oh no, we're not -”

     “No, definitely not -”

     Tess held up her hands, lips quirked into an amused smirk. “Alright, alright, say no more. And your friends back there, two rooms for them?”

     Molly snorted. “Definitely.” If there was anything less likely than Sherlock and Donna ever stopping their bickering, it was... that.

     The captain nodded. “Right. Then follow me.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     Donna was livid. What the hell did that cocky, smug, stick-insect of an alien think he was playing at?! She had no desire to learn anything about the ship's technology, let alone spend all that time with Sherlock bloody Holmes. The only reason she complied was because she figured he'd done it so he could talk to Molly, and because it would've screwed up their cover story. She had a feeling the two had things they needed to talk about, mostly about whatever it was Molly wouldn't tell her about. There were things left unsaid between the two.

     That didn't make her any happier about being stuck listening to Sherlock and some future mechanic pass techobabble back and forth for the foreseeable future. Her only comfort was she figured the engine room wouldn't be able to fit both Sherlock and his high horse. That, of course, was quickly squashed when they entered the engine room. It was small and mostly filled up with the engine in the middle, with the ceiling and floor all angling into a point behind the engine, so it was a somewhat tight fit for all three of them. Ty didn't offer any appology or comment, just popping under the engine to work while he and Sherlock chatted.

     Ty seemed pretty stuffy at first, but once Sherlock started asking questions, he started to speak more openly, eyes flashing with passion as he talked about the ship he worked so hard for. “She's a beauty all right, though she'd be better if Tess'd let me work on the adjustments I want. She's an Albatross class, second generation, a classic design, beautiful too. 'Course, there's rust in just about every crack and crevice, but she runs smooth enough.”

     Sherlock seemed to be asking all the right questsions. He was rude and abbrasive on a good day, but somehow he seemed to be getting on Ty's good side. The two of them were blathering away together, happy as larks. Donna bit back a groan, sliding down to sit against the wall.

     Suddenly, the ship began trembling ever so slightly, the engine roaring to life. Donna froze. “What the -?!”

     Ty looked at her strangely from his spot under the engine. “We're taking off,” he explained slowly, as if it should have been obvious. “We'll be in space in a few minutes.”

     Sherlock smirked at her. “Really, Noble, you must be more observant,” he said in his smuggest, most infuriating tone.

     The companion muttered something along the lines of “Bite me,” under her breath, then turned away, trying to drown out the sound of their technobabble.

     The Doctor really, _really_ , owed her for this one.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Once they had their rooms settled and Tess took off, the Doctor and Molly sat together in the companion's room, her on the bed, him leading against a dresser across from her. Once she was sure Tess was gone, she asked in a low voice, “Alright, is it just me, or is something going on here?”

     The Time Lord shrugged. “Nothing that I've noticed.”

     Molly stared at him. “Really? You haven't noticed _anything_ fishy about the way the crew's acting?” she asked dubiously. The Time Lord might be thick sometimes, but he was usually more perceptive than that.

     “I'd be surprised if they weren't acting fishy,” he answered. At her bewildered look, he explained, “They're not merchants, they're thieves. Well, they could be both.”

     “Thieves?” Molly repeated in surprise.

     “It's more common than you'd think in this time. Like she said, that government, the Alliance, won the big civil war and took over the outer planets? Well, they didn't really do a lot to take care of the rebels they'd conquered. Most of the outer planets are run-down and full of crime and low technology. Crime's about the only way to get by if you're from the border planets. Ships like this are pretty common – they'll take whatever jobs they can get to get by, legitimate or otherwise.”

     Molly blinked a few times, taking it all in. “So, basically we're traveling with... pirates?”

     The Time Lord shook his head. “No no, thieves, not pirates. Pirates are ruthless. They cut down anything in their path, they don't care who gets hurt in the process. And yeah, there's plenty of those kinds of ships out there, but most of these people are just doing what they have to to get by. They won't hurt us if we don't give them reason to. In fact, there's a rather famous crew in this time period, thieves like this crew, and they started a movement that ended up restructuring a rather corrupt government.” He grinned. “It's been a long time since I've been to this time. I kind of missed it, there's a certain rugged charm to it all.”

     The pathologist remembered something from their earlier conversation with Tammy. “What about the Chinese earlier. Why didn't it translate?”

     “Probably because she was cursing,” the Doctor said with a chuckle. “These humans have migrated over from Earth into this solar system because they thought the Earth was used up. They're mostly made up of the Chinese and American cultures, which have sort of meshed over the years. Basically everyone's bilingual. It's really fascinating."

     Molly would've been equally excited, normally, but something about the crew just had her on edge. "If you're not worried about the crew, then why'd you send Donna with Sherlock?"

     "Insurance. They're less likely to go after Sherlock if he's got someone with him."

     Molly didn't consider that very reassuring.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Mindy Tran, pilot of _Ol' Broomtail_ , was having a good day.

     She'd set _Ol' Broomtail_ on autopilot for the moment, and now she was making her way to her room, where she'd left the book she'd been reading earlier. There were several things in the 'verse she was grateful for, and one of them was that books were cheap as dirt to download these days. Even if she didn't have enough to download something new, she could just read the old words again, re-visiting them with new eyes, finding meanings she'd never seen there before.

     On the way to her room, she noticed the door to one of the spare rooms was slightly ajar. She paused. The room was usually used for storing cargo, and if they'd picked up passengers like Tess had planned, she probably wouldn't want the door open for nosy civilians to stumble in through.

     She went to close the door, but before she could, it creaked open a little more. The woman froze at what she saw inside. Then she screamed.

     The lights powered down, the ship stopped moving, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun.
> 
> Yeah, a bit rushed at the end there, but whatever, I wanted to get the plot rolling.
> 
> I wanted there to be similarities to the crew of _Serenity_ , but for them to definitely be their own characters. I hope I succeeded.
> 
> Random question for my fellow Browncoats out there (a Browncoat is what you call a Firefly fan): Which would you rather face, any DW monster/villain, or a Reaver?


	17. Ol' Broomtail: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Molly try to figure out why the ship has shut down.

     Molly froze, instantly alert. Moments ago, the halls had echoed with a terrified scream, and now the lights were out, and she could no longer feel the engine rumbling under her feet. She slowly turned to face the Doctor, who was looking around with interest. He let out a slight groan. “Really? Now?”

     The companion raised an eyebrow. “You're complaining about something like this? You?”

     He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, but this was Sherlock's trip,” he explained. “I was really, _really_ hoping this wouldn't happen this time.”

     Molly's serious, alert mood was broken by sudden amusement. She chuckled, “He's not gonna let you hear the end of this.”

     “Yeah, at least not until I give him a trip _not_ spontaneously interuppted by danger or people trying to kill us. Ah well.” He turned to look at his companion, throwing her an excited grin, which Molly returned. The Time Lord's excitement was infectious.

     He hopped up to his feet, reaching out a hand for Molly to take, pulling her up to her feet as well. “Well then Miss Hooper, shall we go see what the problem seems to be?” he asked in a mock-formal tone, an idiotic grin on his face.

     She grinned right back, imitating his tone. “Yes, Mister Smith, we shall.”

     As they got to their feet, they could hear feet pounding down the hallway. The door to their door was thrown open, and Tammy and Tess hurried into the room. Molly froze as the captain raised a gun, pointing it steadily at the Doctor's chest. In a curt, clipped tone, she asked, "You wanna tell me what the hell just happened?”

     The companion felt anger burning in her chest as she watched the woman threaten her best friend. "That wasn't us-" she started, but she shut up as Tess clicked the safety off, gun pointed unwaveringly at the Time Lord.

     "Save it," she growled. "Unless you want a gaping hole where your brains were, the next words out of pretty boy's mouth better be exactly what he's done to screw with my ship.” Tammy stood back, gun still in her holster, watching Tess handle the situation.

     The Doctor slowly raised his hands. “Listen, we're not the problem. We didn't do this,” he told her calmly.

     Tess considered this for a moment, then her expression grew hard. “Nope. Sorry, wrong answer.” Without warning, she swung her pistol so it was aimed at Molly's head. The Doctor froze, a brief flash of fear and anger in his eyes. Molly felt her stomach plunge, but she forced herself to stare coolly at the owner of the gun.

     The captain didn't even look at Molly as she pointed the gun at her. Her gaze stayed fixed on the Doctor. “I'll ask you again,” she said in a voice that was dangerously calm. “What have you done to my ship?”

     “It wasn't us,” the Time Lord growled out.

     Tess swung the gun to point at the ground right beside Molly's feet, firing it. The companion jumped at the gunshot, freezing as the captain pointed it once again at her forehead. “Tic toc, Doctor.”

     The Time Lord had been calm minutes before, but now he was visibly agitated. His face, always so expressive, wore a mix of fear, anger, and desperation. He glared at Tess with the clear rage of the Oncoming Storm. “I'm telling you, it wasn't us!” he snapped. “We've been sitting in here this whole time. We're telling the truth!”

     Tess snorted. “Oh, that so?” she said sarcastically. “Sure don't seem like you've been so truthful up 'til now.” The captain smirked slightly at the Doctor's clear fury, the dangerous set to his shoulders. “You're as much a missionary as I'm a fairy princess. I don't remember men of God looking quite so angry.” Her gaze shifted over to Molly, eyes narrowed. “Or stand like soliders.”

     Molly hadn't realized she'd fallen into the stature she'd gained over the Year – shoulders squared, back straight, chin lifted defiantly. Tess smirked knowingly. “I seen plenty of fighters fresh outta the war. Ain't hard to spot. They all got that look about them.” The captain turned to look back at the Time Lord. “Don't know about your two friends, but you two are dangerous. I know how to see a threat to my ship and my crew. Now, I'll ask you again. What. Have you done. To my ship.”

     The captain was focused totally on the Doctor. She wasn't paying the companion any attention. This was her chance. She took a quick step towards Tess and, before the captain could retaliate, quickly took the gun pointed at her head and pulled it out of her grasp in a swift disarm. Tammy had her gun out in an instant and pointed at Molly, but the companion just disarmed the gun and dropped it. She slowly put her hands back up. “We're telling the truth,” she said roughly. “Whatever's going on on this ship, it's not because of us.” Turning to face Tess, she added sharply, “Now maybe you should be spending less time worrying about us and just let us help you fix this.”

     Tess glared at her, but before she could say anything, Tammy rolled her eyes and growled, “ _Go hwong tong_ ,” with exasperation. She stepped between Tess and Molly, giving her sister a warning glance. “I've been helping the boys get that box through this hallway, we would've seen if they'd left their room. 'Less they've somehow mucked up the ship from here, they didn't do it.”

     Captain Jones glared at her sister. “You expect me to believe the ship goes to hell not hours after these _bei bi shiou ren_ show up, and it ain't connected?”

     “I'm saying that we oughta be more concerned with getting _Ol' Broomtail_ up and running again,” Tammy explained evenly.

     Tess glared at her with narrowed eyes for a moment, then nodded stiffly. She crossed over to the wall, clicking on the intercom. “Ty, what the hell's going on here?”

     The young man's muffled voice sounded quite flustered. “ _Working on it, Captain._ ”

     “You gotta give me better than that, Ty. Those passangers with you, they do this?”

     “ _What, Sherlock and Donna? No, they've been with me the whole time, I would've seen that,_ " he told her dismissively.

     The Doctor glared pointedly at Tess, a clear expression of _I told you so._. The captain looked somewhat annoyed at being proved wrong. She snapped into the intercom, "Well then what the hell happened to the engine?"

     " _Erm, I'm not sure,_ " came the muffled reply. " _This wasn't done from the engines. Whatever happened, this was from the pilot's end. Check the bridge. Tell you one thing though, this wasn't an accident._ "

     Captain Jones tensed, voice sharp with interest. "What do you mean?"

     " _I mean the engine didn't just fail on it's own. Someone's gone and deliberately forced it into Emergency Shutdown. This was deliberate, Captain._ "

     Tess dropped head head for a moment in frustration, hissing, " _Gou cao de ta ma duh._ " The Doctor's eyebrows raised in amusement at her word choice, but it stayed untranslated for Molly. The captain turned the intercom back on, snapping into it, "Ty, you have to get those engines working. These ain't friendly skies. We can't be sitting here all vulnerable."

     " _Yeah, tell me something I don't know,_ " he replied sarcastically. " _Ask Mindy, she's the one who was in the bridge. She knows those controls better than I do._ "

     "Got it," Tess said tersely. "I'll see if we can reach her. Just do what you can."

     She switched the intercom off, but before she could switch it over, it buzzed on. " _Captain?_ "

     The captain switched it on quickly. "I'm here, Zack. What'd'ya got?"

     The young man's voice was grim, more subdued than before. " _We found Mindy. She's dead._ "

     Tess drew in a sharp breath, and Tammy looked horrified. Molly and the Doctor shared a quick glance. The companion felt the familiar clench in her heart, the cold feeling of grief for a person she'd never met, yet somehow felt responsible for. That was what it was to travel with the Doctor. People died everywhere you went, and they were all your responsibility. Molly sometimes wondered whether it was worth all the stars the TARDIS could offer.

      "How?" Tess asked in a tense tone.

     A different, deeper voice sounded. " _Shane here, I'm with them. Looks like she was shot._ "

     Before Tess could reply, Zack piped up again. " _Whoever killed her was brutal, she looks awful, Captain. She looks like she's been... oh god, it almost looks like she's been clawed by something huge._ " The Doctor and Molly exchanged quick glances.

     Tess's eyes narrowed. "'Clawed?'" she repeated dubiously.

     Shane's voice sounded again. " _More likely they're slices from some sort of blade._ "

     " _I'm not so sure,_ " Zack argued. " _The gashes look too big for any kind of blade I know._ "

     The captain replied tersely, "You'd be surprised what kind of weapons there are out there, kid." She paused for a moment, quietly collecting herself, her fingers tightly clenching the comm. Then she switched it on again, this time causing it to echo throughout the ship. " _This is Captain Jones. Mindy is dead. We don't know who killed her, but right now, our concern is getting this boat moving again. Be careful, everyone._ "

     She quickly switched back over to speaking through to the engine room. "Ty, can you get _Ol' Broomtail_ moving again without Mindy?"

     The mechanic's voice was more subdued now. " _Of course. But it'll be tricky. I need to be on the bride working the controls, but there has to be someone at either of the side engines and the main engine waiting to turn them on at just the right time._ "

     "Fine. Get that figured out and get back to me." She switched the comm off.

     Molly cleared her throat. "You sure Mindy wasn't clawed like Zack said?" she asked.

     Tess turned to glare at her. "And what exactly d'you think clawed her?" she asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Last time I checked, ain't nobody on board's got claws."

     "Well clearly someone killed her," Molly snapped, "and you don't seem to think its any of your crew, so either you're wrong, or someone's hiding out on board you don't know about. It could be an alien for all you know."

     Tammy looked at her incredulously, letting out a short, harsh laugh. "Aliens ain't real, kid," she said bluntly. "Everyone knows that. Even Reavers were human once. 'Sides, last time I checked, Reavers aren't in the business of shooting or clawing up the folks they kill. They ain't nearly that merciful."

     Before Molly could ask more about Reavers, the Doctor spoke up. "Alright, so what's the plan?"

     Captain Jones glared at him. "That ain't your concern," she told him coldly.

     "'Course it is," Molly insisted. "We can help."

     "Y'aren't leaving this bunk," the captain snapped.

     The Doctor took a stiff step towards her, tensed and eyes narrowed. There was something dangerous in his stance, threatening, but determined too. Tess squared her shoulders, lifting her chin defiantly as she glared up at him. The Time Lord spoke in a low, deliberate voice. "You threatened my companion, and we're going to talk about that later. But right now, your crewmen are dying. Something on your ship is killing them, and if we don't find out what, and if we don't get this ship moving soon, they're all going to die. I can help you. Don't let your crew die just because you're too proud to accept help!"

     Tess was getting an Oncoming Storm-level glare, but she didn't seem fazed. Her expression was completely steely as she bit out, "Just because you didn't kill my friend yourself doesn't mean I trust you. And I am _not_ going to risk anyone else just because you say you want to play hero. You're staying here. Period."

     Ignoring the Time Lord, she started off for the door, calling over her shoulder, "Tammy, you stay here and watch them."

     Her sister stated at her incredulously. "What?" She went to block Tess from leaving, glaring at her as she said, "We can just lock them in and leave 'em. We need everyone we can helping, not sitting around here playing babysitter."

     Captain Jones' expression didn't waver. "That is an order, Tamara," she said in a voice like steel.

     The first mate hesitated, then reluctantly took a step back, giving Tess room to leave. "Yes ma'am," she said stiffly. Tess nodded curtly, then pulled the door open, closing it firmly behind her as she left.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Donna was a little worried by how unsurprised she was that the ship had broken. Seriously, did the Doctor ever go on any _normal_ trips, the kind where you didn't somehow attract every murderous psychopath and dangerous situation possible. It was inevitable at this point, any time she stepped outside the TARDIS, something was going to try to kill her. The consistancy of it was worrying.

     More worrying was how much she enjoyed it.

     As Ty switched off the comm, Donna asked, “So how exactly are we supposed to fix this?”

     He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in a motion eeriliy reminiscent of the Doctor. “We need to start up the engines again, but we need to turn the Emergency Shutdown off first. Once I overried the system and reboot it, the engines all need to be turned on at the same time.”

     Sherlock took over, not missing a beat as he said, “There's three engines, this main one, and two sides ones on either 'wing' of the ship.”

     Ty nodded wearily. He turned back to the comm, switching it on. “Hey Zack, you there?”

     The young man's voice buzzed through. “ _We're here, Ty. What do you need?_ ”

     “You and Ryan need to each get to a side engine. You remember how I told you to start it up, right?”

     “ _Yeah, we remember. You want us to do that now?_ ”

     “Not yet,” Ty told him. “Get to the engine and get it ready, but don't start it up yet. Wait 'til I call you and tell you.”

     “ _Got it,_ ” the young man replied.

     The mechanic switched off the comm, then turned back to the two travelers. “I need to be up on the bridge so I can switch off the Emergency Shutdown. You remember enough of what I told you about the engine to set it up?”

     Sherlock smirked slightly. “Obviously,” he said smugly. “It's been too long since I've had a proper challenge like this.”

     Donna glared at the detective. Did he have to sound so bloody cheerful about it? Someone had died for christsake! She could see the slump in Ty's shoulders, the grief and weariness that dulled his eyes even as he focused on saving the crew members still left. She felt a flare of irritation. Did Sherlock really have to be so damn oblivious?

     Ty nodded stiffly. “Right. I'll be in the bridge if you need anything. Just switch the comm on and direct it to the bridge.” He turned and started off for the door, shoulders still slumped.

     Donna felt a rush of sympathy for the kid. “Ty, wait,” she called out, taking a few steps towards him. The mechanic turned to face her, brow furrowed. She hesitated.“Just... I'm sorry,” she said softly.

     Ty's eyes grew heavier for a moment, expression softening into grief. “Yeah,” he said quietly. Then he turned away sharply, voice stiff as he repeated, “Call me if you need me.” Then he was out the door and gone.

     Behind her, Sherlock spoke up in that smug voice that made her want to strangle him. “Well then, looks like it's just you and me.”

     Donna clenched her jaw, using every bit of self control she had to keep herself from slugging him in the face. For the foreseeable future, until they got the ship working again, she was going to be stuck in a room alone with Sherlock Holmes, helping him work on an engine she knew nothing about, giving him ample opportunities to comment on her ineptitude. She'd had nightmares less unappealing than this.

     As she turned back to face him, she had one, vivid thought. _I'm gonna bloody_ kill _that Time Lord for this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness of the chapter, I've been busy moving into college. Hopefully now that I'm settled in, the posting'll be more regular.


	18. Ol' Broomtail: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Molly are forced to wait while Sherlock tries to fix the ship.

     Molly leaned against the wall beside her bed, letting out a sigh. It had been half an hour since they'd been locked in their room. The Doctor was pacing, occasionally taking a moment to glare at the locked door. Tammy was sitting on the edge of the other bed, glaring at nothing. No one had spoken since Tess had left.

     The companion was tensed with energy, completely on alert. Someone had died, and instead of being able to help, they were being forced to just sit there and do nothing. She was itching to get and and _do_ something, anything, her muscles were humming with nervous tension, but all she could do was sit on her bed and glare at her feet.

     Finally, the Doctor broke the silence. He turned to look at Molly, corner of his mouth quirked into a slight half-smile. “Well, looks like it's just you and me,” he said brightly.

     Molly nodded tersely. “Yep.” She wasn't really in the mood for small talk. Not when she could be out doing something.

     The Time Lord didn't seem to take the hint. He leaned against the sink across from her, arms behind him to support him. He continued, “It's been a bit since it's been just the two of us, hasn't it? I can't remember the last time it was just us.”

     “Must've been before Sherlock came on,” Molly said lightly. The conversation was getting dangerously near territory neither had breached, and she very much wanted to keep it that way. There were things she just didn't want to talk about, and up until now, the Doctor had seemed to go along with that.

     The Doctor nodded thoughtfully. “Must've been. Been a while, hasn't it?” He chuckled. “Things were a bit simpler then. Just you and me running from the world, no consulting detectives lurking around the TARDIS or Master or Moriarty to worry about. It was a little less crowded.”

     The companion flinched at the mention of the Master. That was _definitely_ something she didn't want to talk about, especially not with the Doctor. She turned her head away sharply, not meeting the Doctor's eyes. “Yeah, well, things are different now,” she said stiffly. She really hoped the Time Lord would take the hint and drop the subject.

     He raised an eyebrow at her tone. “I guess,” he agreed slowly, looking at her strangely. After a few moments, he asked, “You're okay with having Donna on board, right? I know I already asked -”

     Molly cut him off before he could embarrass himself further. “It's fine, Doctor, really. Donna's great.” It had been a little weird at first, having someone entirely new on the TARDIS, but she really didn't mind anymore. She liked Donna, and even if she could be a little brash and loud, and even if she pushed a little more than Molly would've liked, it wasn't Donna that was the problem.

     She could feel the Time Lord still looking at her with concern, and it was starting to bug her. In a sharper tone than she'd meant, Molly told him, “Look, I'm fine, okay? I'm completely fine. You don't need to keep harping on about it.”

     The Doctor looked a little hurt at her tone. She felt a bit bad, but mostly, she just wanted the conversation to end. In truth, there was a reason she and the Doctor hadn't really been alone since the Year. All that time, she had been looking forward to traveling with the Doctor again, but now that she was, it was too uncomfortable. There was too much unsaid, too much that had happened in that Year that the Doctor knew nothing about.

     And deep down, there was that little part of her that blamed the Doctor for the Year That Never Was. She knew it didn't make sense, and she didn't believe it, not really. But the Year had been hard on her, harder than she would admit to anyone. She had been forced into tough decisions, had seen things and done things that would always haunt her, and she still had the occasional nightmare. Logic really didn't have much place in her head when she though about the Year. So there was still that little, tiny voice in her head that reminded her that if she'd never met the Doctor, if he hadn't taken them to the end of the universe, if he had just taken out the Master when he'd had the chance, then she wouldn't have suffered as she did. His usual, Time Lord oblivious nature just made it worse. He didn't even seem to realize anything was wrong. He thought she could just walk around the Earth for a year and bounce right back like absolutely nothing was wrong. He could be so clueless sometimes.

     Well, if that's what he thought, no reason to say anything to prove him wrong. Besides, what did it matter? She was fine, really. And even if she wasn't, she definitely _didn't_ want to talk about it. What was the point in dredging it all up again. The Year was over, and it was time to move on. So yeah, she'd been avoiding the Doctor, because she'd known he would ask, and she'd known he would worry, and she really didn't need that. She just wanted to be left alone.

     The Time Lord looked at her with a solemn expression, clearly still confused, and just a little bit old and sad. He didn't seem to understand what was wrong, but he clearly knew something was the matter. After a few moments, he gave a stiff nod. “Yeah, alright,” he said quietly. “Sorry.” Still glancing back occasionally at Molly, he got back to his feet and began his pacing again. The companion let out a slow breath, slowly sliding her back lower down against the wall, her arms flopping wearily to her sides. This was going to be a long wait.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Forty five minutes.

     It had been forty five minutes since the ship had stopped working. Forty five minutes since Ty had gone to the front of the ship to figure out how to make it work from the pilot's end. The young mechanic had called in every so often to give some new instruction or check in on them, but mostly it had been forty five minutes of Sherlock being a completely smug, irritating, emotionless, _infuriating_ bastard. And Donna was getting fed up with it.

     Admittedly, most of the time was spent with him working, but even as concentrated as he was, he still managed to be a total ass. The way he'd get excited whenever he figured something out, smirking away to himself. In the Doctor, she just would've seen it as his natural excitement, but in Sherlock, all it did was remind her of how little he cared about anybody. He hadn't reacted at all when Mindy had died; he never did.

     Molly had once said she'd initially thought that Sherlock and the Doctor were similar. Donna had no idea where on Earth she'd ever gotten that idea. Those two couldn't be more different if they tried. Sure, they were both smart, yeah, but that was about it. The Doctor really cared about people in general. He never used violence if he could help it, and he was an advocate for the importance of the ordinary human. Most of all, he cared, about everyone.

     Sherlock was the complete opposite. Smug, vain, arrogant, he was all about his own brilliance and how to further his own mind. He didn't seem to care about anybody other than himself, and that scared Donna a little. She had a feeling that if Sherlock felt it would be better for him to leave her and the others to die, he'd do it without hesitating. His lack of compassion of any kind, even more than his infuriating rudeness, was what made Donna dislike him so. He didn't seem to serve any purpose on the TARDIS but to criticize others and find outlets for his brilliance.

     Donna let out a slight huff of boredom, turning her head to look at the door. Sherlock heard her movement, and looked up with a slight smirk. “Bored?” he asked lightly.

     Christ, how'd he manage to make that one word sound so damn smug? Suppressing any of her nastier comments, she let out a tight, “Just sick of sitting here.”

     “I'd think you'd be used to it,” the detective snarked, barely glancing up at her from his work. “You seem to do a lot of that wherever we go.”

     The companion felt the familiar rush of anger. “God, can't you be civil for two seconds?” she snapped irritably. “It's like you can't open your mouth without pissing everyone off.”

     Sherlock quickly retorted, “That description would better describe you, Ms. Noble.”

     Donna would've normally carried on, arguing with him over nothing until someone interrupted, but right now, she was just too angry with him to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she glared at him for several moments, thinking over everything she'd had to put up with because of that man. Finally, she asked in a low voice, “Why are you here?”

     The detective smirked, glancing up at her briefly. “You're slower than usual today, Donna, already forgetting I got here the same way you did.”

     “No, why are you _here_ , on the TARDIS, traveling?” she snapped. “I mean, Molly I get, she actually likes traveling and helping people. But what the bloody hell are you doing here? You're always prattling on about how useless sight-seeing is, so you're not here to see the universe. You certainly don't care about anyone besides your blessed self, so you're not here to help people. So why are you here? I think it's a simple enough question.”

     Sherlock had started out smirking, but as she went on, she could see minute changes in his expression. His smirk slowly faded, and though he appeared mostly expressionless, there was a flash of something in his eyes, a slight twitch in his jaw. She wasn't sure what it meant, but if she hadn't known better, she would've said it was something like sadness. It was gone as soon as it had appeared, and he soon told her smoothly, “Interesting question. Let me ask you one - why do you care so much?"

     Donna raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

     “Why care?” the detective repeated with a shrug. “You're not from a well-off family, and your low intelligence means you're not going to get far in life.” He rattled off his assessment of her at rapid-fire, not giving her a chance to rage at him about it. “You're insecure about your mother and about what happened with your fiance, and you haven't had a good run of life. So why should you care about anybody else? And why expect me to care? I daresay you care enough for the both of us.”

     Donna could feel irritation bubbling underneath. She turned to face Sherlock, squaring her shoulders as she glared at him. “Because it's what people do,” she snapped. “We care about other people. And yeah, maybe my life isn't exactly perfect, and thank you for pointing that out, you complete arsehole. But that's my problem. I don't have to pass it off on anyone else or act like a wanker because of it.” Sherlock rolled his eyes and started to say something, but Donna cut him off strongly. “No, you're listening to me now. Got it?” With a raised eyebrow, he fell silent, letting her continue.

     The former temp continued bitingly, “Why do you think I even signed onto this crew of ours, hmm? I like helping people. I want my life to mean something, to have helped others, saved them even. Caring about other peoples' lives, kind of what makes us the good guys. And I'm sorry, you bloody twat, if I don't measure up to whatever standards you have. But you know what? You don't measure up to mine. Cause you may think you're all brilliant and everything, and that that somehow makes you better than everyone else, but I couldn't care less if you were Einstein himself. In my book, if you're rude and arrogant and like tearing other people down, all the brilliance in the world won't stop you from being a useless arse. Now, you might not care about little things like helping people and making them feel better about themselves, but I do. I may not be smart, but it's what I'm good at, it's what I care about, and if you think that somehow makes me lesser than you, then screw you.” She narrowed her eyes. “I'm on this crew too now, and I've done just as much as you, and I deserve to know why you're here and whether I can trust you.”

     Sherlock had listened to her rant in silence, expressionless, but Donna almost thought she saw a hint of something in his eyes. If she hadn't know better, she would've called it respect. He leaned back, looking thoughtful. As he thought, his expression shifted, slipping through several minute changes. Quiet respect to sadness, then grief, then slowly collecting himself into grim resignation. Finally, he said slowly, “I have this... friend.” Donna blinked in surprise. That wasn't the answer she'd been expecting. “A good friend. Someone tried to kill him. The Doctor and Molly helped me with that, and now my friend thinks I'm dead. And I can't go back, not yet. So I'm here instead.”

     Donna looked at him curiously. Knowing Sherlock, she'd been expecting some sort of smart-ass remark. Not the hint of warmth in his tone when he'd mentioned that friend. Not the hard grief in his tone when he'd talked about being dead. Not some actual hint of emotion for another human being.

     Despite herself, she felt herself feeling just a little bit sorry for the detective. “I'm sorry,” she said in a slightly less gruff tone. “What do you mean though, you can't go back?”

     “There was this criminal, Moriarty,” he said in a dull voice. “He set it up so that if I didn't kill myself, he would kill my friend. So Molly and the Doctor helped me fake my own death. Now Moriarty's dead, but his network of criminals isn't and if I don't take them all out before coming back from the dead, they'll kill my friend. And I can't let that happen.” There was hard determination in that last sentence, a rare blaze of passion in his eyes. Donna had never seen him express that much emotion beyond arrogance before.

     The companion felt her anger diffuse in the face of this new information. She might not be as intelligent as Time Lords or genius detectives, but one thing she was good at was reading people. And what she was reading from Sherlock now flew in the face of everything she'd assumed about him. Whoever this friend of his was, he seemed to really, actually care about this person, more than she ever would've thought was possible for him. Even if he was an insufferable twat, he was human, and now she was feeling more than just slightly sorry for him.

     In a soft, warm tone, she told him, “I'm sorry.” The detective looked up at her in surprise, arching an eyebrow. She wanted to say something else, assure him that she really was sorry for accusing him of being a robot. Finally, she asked curiously, “Your friend, what's his name?”

     Sadness flashed in Sherlock's eyes. He swallowed before telling her in a slightly choked voice, “John. John Watson.”

     Donna smiled softly. “Well, you're still a miserable stick insect, but I'm sorry about what I said. And if there's any way at all I can help with you getting to see John again, just tell me.”

     He looked at her curiously, something unreadable in his eyes. “Right,” he said lightly.

     The former temp let out a snort, the solemn mood broken. “You could say 'thank you,' you tosser,” she grumbled, but it was more affectionate than before.

     Sherlock smirked slightly, letting out a light chuckle. “Right.” Donna rolled her eyes, turning back to look at the door. A few moments later, Sherlock spoke again, voice unusually solemn. “Thank you.” Donna looked back at him in shock, but he had already turned back to his work, ignoring her once again. She turned back to the door, mulling over what had just happened. Finally, she smirked to herself. She'd gotten Sherlock Holmes to act like an actual human being for a whole minute. Not a bad accomplishment.

     And maybe something that could be repeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to start up the broken record once again and go on about how I'm sorry for the wait, how school's keeping me busy, settling into college, blah blah blah. At this point, you might want to expect some wait time between posts. I'll try to do better, but I make no promises this time.
> 
> Yeah. Erm. Here we are, at chapter four of this episode. Usually that's where the episode ends. Except, not this time. This time, we're looking at five, possible six parts to this episode. Sorry for it being so long, but I have a lot of character development plus plot stuff I want to get through here. I'm especially pleased with my Donna and Sherlock conversation, not quite as much with my Molly and Doctor conversation.
> 
> And yeah, Sherlock owes his little ability to say "thank you" to that conversation with Molly earlier.


	19. Ol' Broomtail: Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Molly are still stuck in a room with Tammy.

     “It’s a nice name.”

     Tammy looked up at the Doctor in surprise. The first mate was seated inside the arc of the door, squatting down so that her back rested against the doorframe and her feet raised so her weight was on her toes. Her position seemed relaxed, but the Doctor could see that her shoulders were tensed, and how her hand twitched in the direction of her gun when he spoke. “What is?” she asked suspiciously.

     “Ol’ Broomtail,” he clarified quickly. “It’s a good name for a ship, as ship names go and all. Not as good as TARDIS, but well…”

     “Doctor, get to the point,” Molly called out tiredly from her perch on the bed. The Time Lord glanced back at her with concern. Something was definitely, completely wrong with her, with how she was acting, but right now really wasn’t a good time to deal with it.

     He turned back to Tammy with an amiable grin, pushing his concerns about Molly to the back of his head, to be dealt with at a time when their lives weren’t in imminent jeopardy. “I was just wondering, where’d the name come from?”

     The first mate narrowed her eyes. “It’s a bit of a long story,” she told him in a clipped voice.

     The Time Lord shrugged amiably. “We’ve got time,” he pointed out, waving a hand at the room they were stuck in for emphasis. When she continued to look uncertain, he raised his hands defensively as he added, “We won’t tell anyone. Honest.”

     Tammy glared at him uncertainly for a moment, then relaxed, giving a little shrug as she told him, “Me and Tess grew up on a ranch on Hera. We had cattle and horses and such, you know, herds carried over from Earth-That-Was. There weren’t any livestock here when we got here, so all the animals to start were the domesticated ones we brought over. But sometimes horses get loose, and bit by bit, they’ll start forming wild herds. Wild horses graze on land that ranchers need for their own animals, so they’re seen as pests. Broomtails, they’re called. They’ve got their own lives and needs, you know, but ranchers don’t care. They just see what they want to gain and what stands in their way. So, when we lost the war and got the ship, I dunno, I guess I just thought of those horses, living their lives and getting in the way. That seemed to fit us pretty well.”

     The Doctor looked at her with interest. With a tone suddenly soft with understanding, he asked, “You fought in the war?”

     The woman nodded. “Tess ’n I signed up together, got put in the same platoon.” She shook her head, a soft smile on her face as she recalled, “We were such little hellfires. Thought we could run right into the fight with everything we had and win the war single-handed. Bit of a nasty shock when we lost.”

     “War can be like that,” the Doctor said quietly. Memories of the Time War rose up in his head, but he quickly quashed them.

     Tammy looked at him curiously. “Tess’s right,” she remarked quietly. “You ain’t a preacher.”

     The Time Lord shrugged easily, giving a little sheepish smirk as he admitted, “Guilty.”

     “You fought in the war,” she said quietly. It was a statement, not a question.

     He hesitated. “Not the Unification War,” he told her. “Different war. Long time ago.”

     A dubious snort. “You don’t look that old,” she commented.

     “Looks can be deceiving,” the Doctor remarked lightly.

     Tammy looked at him strangely, then, after a moment’s thought, gave a shrug. “Y’ain’t wrong,” she allowed. “Anyways, war’s ended, we lost, it’s long over. Now there ain’t soldiers, there’s just folks trying to get by. Just trying to survive.”

     “Always running away from what happened,” the Doctor added with a sad smile. He didn’t like thinking of himself as a soldier, but he couldn’t deny that the woman in front of him reminded him of himself. Always on the run, always trying to forget what happened.

     Something shifted in the first mate’s eyes. She gave a stiff nod. “Yeah,” she said in a hushed, solemn tone. “You start running, and you never stop.”

     The Doctor started to reply, but before he could speak, the door behind them swung open. Behind it stood a rather tall, thickly built man with a pale blond crew cut, a tattoo on one shoulder, and a pale scar running down one cheek. Tammy jumped up to her feet, hand going right to her holster, but she relaxed as she recognized the man. “Jeez, Shane, y’ever hear of knocking?”

     The Time Lord looked curiously at the new arrival. He recalled Tess mentioning a Shane as being part of the crew, though she hadn’t said what his exact job was. Looking at him now, with the strong, built arms and broad chest, he was going to guess he was the hired muscle.

     Shane smirked at his first mate. “What’s the matter, Tams?” he asked with a chuckle. The Doctor could hear a faint accent in his voice; maybe Australian. “One crewmate down and you’re already this jumpy?”

     The Time Lord felt a flash of anger at the callous mention of Mindy’s death. By the cold glint in Tammy’s eyes, she felt the same. She squared her shoulders, glaring up at the much taller man. “I’m not overly fond of watching my friends die,” she told him coolly.

     “Yeah, whatever,” Shane said, sounding almost bored. His gaze shifted over to the two time travelers, eyes narrowed, before looking back to Tammy. “Anyway, Tess told me to come check on you.”

     Tammy relaxed her shoulders, letting out a relieved grumble of, “Finally. My sister finally letting me out of babysitting duty?”

     With a smirk, the larger man shook his head. “Nope. You’re still stuck with the preachers.”

     The first mate gaped at Shane, tone indignant. “You’re kidding me, right? What the hell’s the use of me sitting around here while people are dying?!”

     Shane shrugged. “Hey, I’m not the captain, alright? Ain’t my call.” He turned to rummage in the pocket of his dark grey overcoat, pulling out a pack of cards. As he tossed it to Tammy, he said, “Here. Have fun with the kiddies then, Tams. Don’t wait up.” With that, he turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.

     Tammy glared at the door for several moments before tossing the cards against the wall angrily. She spun away from the wall, letting out a hiss of, “ _Chwen go tsao de jieh-jieh!_ ” as she ran a frustrated hand through her hair. She stood like that for a few moments, a hand still absently entangled in her hair, forgotten about in her frustration. Finally, she turned to the Doctor and Molly with a hard, determined expression. “If you’ve got any weapons, get ‘em now,” she ordered. “We’re going out there.”

     The Doctor felt a rush of relief. _Finally._ Molly, however, looked surprised. “You’re letting us come?” she asked dubiously.

     The thief glanced briefly at Molly, explaining in a determined tone, “I already lost one friend today. I’ll go to hell before I lose another. You two seem like you can handle yourselves, and we need all the help we can get to figure out what the hell’s going on around here.” Her gaze switched back over to the Doctor, eyes hard. “I’m trusting you,” she told him in a tone of warning. “I think you’re telling the truth. But if you try to hurt any of my crew, I ain’t gonna hesitate to put a bullet in your brain. Are we clear?”

     The Time Lord looked at her evenly. He didn’t like the threat to his companion and himself, but he could appreciate her position. Besides, he could see Tammy was a good person who cared about her crew. He could ignore the gun, for the sake of saving the crew. With that in mind, he nodded. “Clear,” he assured her.

     “Good,” Tammy said. She turned back to the door, pulling it open cautiously. She took a quick look outside, then pulled it open further, calling back to the travelers, “We’re good. Come on.” The thief led them out into the hallway, stance tense and expression alert. She led them a few doors past their room, then pulled one open and slipped inside. The Doctor and Molly followed her in to see what was clearly someone’s room. It was much homier than the one they had been given, with things thrown haphazardly about. To the Doctor’s dread, one wall was lined with different guns and knives, ranging from smaller handguns to shotguns, small throwing knives to machetes.

     Tammy grabbed a smaller pistol and crouched down, slipping it into her boot. She got back to her feet, grabbed a shotgun, and held it out to the Doctor. “Here.”

     The Doctor clenched his jaw. _What is it with these people and guns?_ he thought somewhat irritably. He didn’t try to keep the disdain out of his voice as he told her, “No thanks.”

     The first mate’s eyes narrowed. “This ain’t the time to be stuffy, Doc. Y’ain’t no use to me unarmed.”

     He gave an irritable sigh, deciding to voice his earlier thoughts. “Honestly, what is it with you people and your guns? They don’t do anyone any good.”

     She let out a slight, incredulous laugh. “They do me plenty good to stop folks killing me.”

     “I’m not taking the gun,” the Doctor said firmly.

     He and Tammy continued to glare at each other. Tammy started to say something, but before she could speak, Molly let out an irritated, “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She stepped in and, without looking at the Doctor, took the gun from Tammy.

     The Doctor stared at Molly in shock. Something like horror and disapproval, tempered by an overwhelming rush of concern, fell over him. Molly had just taken a gun from Tammy, had accepted it, and was now holding it like she knew exactly how it was supposed to fit in her hand. In a cool voice, she told Tammy, “I’ll take it, now the Doctor doesn’t need one. Happy?” He didn’t hear Tammy’s response, nor did he really pay attention as she passed Molly a holster for her gun. All he could think was that whatever was wrong with Molly was a _hell_ of a lot worse than he’d thought. The Molly he’d known before the Year would never have looked at a gun, much less taken one on as her weapon of choice. The worst part for him was how comfortable she seemed with it. She handled it easily, strapping it to her hip with an almost relaxed air. It was almost like it gave her comfort to know it was there.

     Something was definitely, _definitely_ wrong with Molly Hooper.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Shane Calhoun was starting to get irritated.

     This job had gone way south. He’d figured he’d known what he was getting into, some scrapes and bruises maybe, a bit of bodily harm for him, but he hadn’t expected anyone to _find_ the bloody thing. Now the damn pilot was dead, and everyone was on high alert. He knew it wasn’t going to be long before someone else found it, and then there’d be hell to pay.

     Grumbling under his breath, he finally made it to the door of the room where Mindy had died. He looked around furtively, then shoved it open, glaring into the darkness inside. As his eyes adjusted, he could see the ugly brute lurking in the corner, eyes narrowed with hate. He recognized that look from the cattle he had helped raised in youth, the uncaring, cold ignore of animals. It was pure, animal instinct, nothing more to it. Just another dumb beast to be bought and sold for human gain.

     He shut the door behind him, then turned back to glare at the beast. “You’ve caused quite a stir, fella,” he told the creature irritably. “Got the crew all excited. They gonna be lookin’ for you, an’ I can’t let that happen, you understand?”

     The thief could only be glad he had been the first to find Mindy’s body. He’d been able to slam the door on the beast before it had escaped to do more harm, then he’d dragged Mindy elsewhere, so once he called the others in to look at her, they wouldn’t go looking where she was really killed.

     The creature glared back at him with eyes glazed over. He’d drugged the creature, packed it in full of tranquilizer. It was still awake, but sluggish and slow, and unable to make a sound. The last thing he needed was the bloody thing roaring and alerting the crew.

     He smirked at the beast. “You don’t understand a word I’m saying, do you, you stupid piece of meat?” The mercenary shook his head. “Anyways, I need to keep you hid, so I’m gonna seal you in, weld the doors together. Be a pain to get them back open again, but it’d be worse to get more folk dead on account on you. I need a crew to fly me about after all, need a crew to get jobs and get paid. Be a damn shame if you ate them all.”

     The mercenary turned back to the door, ready to go to the outside and weld it shut, but in doing so he took his eyes off the monster.

     So he had no warning when fangs burrowed themselves into his shoulder and chest.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly couldn’t look at the Doctor as they exited Tammy’s room. She had no idea what she could possibly say to make what had just happened okay with him. Guns, for him, were the antichrist. She knew that. She had known that when she’d been just as anti-gun as he, and she had known it when she’d first strapped on the gun she would keep with her throughout the Year. The weight of it, the cool touch of metal against her hip, was a comfort to her, but she knew how it had to be killing the Doctor to watch.

     But it felt good to have it at her side again. There was the feeling of security. Now, she was protected, in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. She was repulsed by the idea of killing with a gun, yes, but surely she was justified in wanting it for protection? The Doctor would understand, wouldn’t he? He had to. And if he didn’t, well, then to hell with him. He hadn’t lived through that god-awful year. He had no right to judge her. Molly kept telling herself that as they continued on.

     They headed off further into the ship, filed behind Tammy, who had her gun hand. Molly didn’t move her gun from her holster. Better to just keep it by her side. No need to wave it anyone who wasn’t threatening her.

     Tammy led them towards the room where Shane, Ryan, and Zack had said they’d found her. It was an empty storage room, dusty and empty, just a few old boxes scattered about. The Doctor gave it a quick scan with his sonic screwdriver for good measure, but he came up empty. “No sign anything’s been in here, far as I can tell,” he said, brow furrowed as he peered into the darkness.

     Molly sighed. “Must’ve moved on. I guess we could keep -”

     She was interrupted by a shrill scream. All three of them tensed as they realized it was from just a few rooms over. “Come on!” Tammy ordered. They raced quickly down the hallway, bursting through the door the scream was coming from.

     Inside, they could see Shane crumpled on the ground, feebly twitching as blood spilled out from his mangled chest. Molly felt a rush of horror at the sight, but forced herself to crouch down beside him. The moment she looked closer, she knew there was nothing she or anyone could do. His chest had been torn to ribbons, and he’d lost too much blood. She could only watch helplessly as he took in a few last, shuddering breathes, then stilled.

     Shane gone, she moved her attention to the thing that had killed him. A create was slouched over in the center of the room, panting and shaking. It was built like some sort of cat, with the blunt, broad face of a lion, the sleek body and the powerful limbs. However, the creature had a horn sprouting from its muzzle like a rhino, with two more sticking out from beside each ear, like longer goat-horns. It also had a tail with long, flowing fur, like the tail of a housecat. Its fur was a dark ashy color, with pale amber tinting on the undersides and muzzle, and pale flecking on the rest of the pelt. The eyes were a dark blue, full of pain and fear and hate as the creature glared out at them.

     Molly’s hand went instinctively to her hip as the creature got shakily to its paws. Now that it was standing, she could see it towered far over their heads, with maybe two feet on the Doctor. It glared coldly at them, a weak growl rumbling in its throat, as it took a slow, threatening step towards them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would apologize for the wait again, but honestly, at this point I'd just sound like a broken record. It hasn't been school so much as just the fact that I've been feeling really blocked as far as writing goes. I feel a bit better, I didn't feel blocked writing this chapter, but we'll see how it goes after this.
> 
> Anyway, yay, I finally got to describe our mysterious alien friend. Hey, ever notice that the aliens on Doctor Who all tend to be humanoid, or at least bipedal? Why aren't there any animal-like aliens? It seems far more realistic to me.
> 
> And as for the Sherlock side of things... WE HAVE AN AIRDATE FOR SEASON THREE OH MY LORD OF THE RINGS THANK YOU CHUCK WE FINALLY HAVE A PREMIERE DATE. *ahem* That is all.


	20. Ol' Broomtail: Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor, Molly, and Tammy are confront by the alien monster.

     Tammy took a step back, eyes wide with shock. “ _Wong ba dunh!_ ” she hissed. She raised her gun, pointing it shakily at the animal’s forehead as she demanded, “What the hell is that thing?”

     The Doctor put a restraining hand on her arm, telling her sharply, “Leave it alone!” He turned to look at the creature, eyes wide with excitement and admiration. “Oh, you’re a beauty, aren’t you?” he breathed. The Time Lord took a slow step forward, hands held up defensively, eyes running over the creature, soft with concern. “You’ve been hurt, haven’t you? What’s wrong with you?”

     The first mate let out a hiss. “Doctor. Get your ass back here!” She raised her gun once again.

     “Wait!” a voice suddenly called out. Molly stiffened in surprise as a second creature scuttled out into view, coming to stand protectively in front of the cat creature. This alien was very lizard-like in appearance. It was bipedal, maybe waist-height, with two sets of arts with three-fingered hands, a lizard-like tail, a smooth, gecko-like head, and tall, rabbit-like ears. The scales were a pale blue, her undersides a paler purple, and her eyes wide and amber. She wore a belt that looped over one shoulder, and brown pants.

     She pushed back with two hands against the cat’s muzzle, the other two held palms-flat in a defensive position. “Calm down Sabee, calm down,” she cooed shakily to the cat. The creature let out a groaning sound of protest, but eventually the growl died down in its throat, and its hackles lie flat. The lizard creature turned nervously to the humans, amber eyes wide with fear. “Please, don’t hurt her,” she begged quietly.

     Molly knew the cat was the one who had killed Shane, the bite marks and the blood on the cat’s muzzle left no other alternative. But the lizard alien seemed sincere, and she knew they had to let her say her piece.

     The Doctor held up his hands. “It’s alright,” he assured the alien, “We’re not going to hurt her.”

     The alien’s eyes widened. “You speak Komnoran?” she breathed. “I haven’t been able to understand a word these humans have been saying. It’s been a nightmare.”

     The Time Lord hesitated, explaining, “Well, not exactly. But yeah, we can understand you, and we’re not going to hurt you, alright?” Tammy didn’t lower her gun, so the Doctor rolled his eyes and put a hand on her arm to force her gun down. He turned back to the lizard alien. “Who are you?” he asked curiously.

     The alien glanced warily at the gun, still standing protectively in front of the cat. Tammy rolled her eyes and put her gun back in her holster, putting her hands up in an exaggerated gesture. The lizard alien relaxed. “My name is Alsik, and this is Sabee. We’re from Bomia.”

     The Doctor’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh yeah, that’s just a starsystem over,” he realized aloud. “I’ve never been, but I’ve heard it’s a nice place.” He looked at Alsik with interest. “You’re a Komnor then, aren’t you?”

     Alsik nodded. “Yes. Sabee here, she’s a Golnem, my mount.”

     “Your what?” Molly repeated with confusion.

     “My mount,” Alsik told her. “You humans, you have… ships, I think? Things you ride on, to go from here to there. On my planet, Golnems are mounts for Komnors. We choose one when we’re young, one our age, and we raise and train it. Their lifespan is the same as ours, so we raise them when we are both children, and as they mature into adulthood, so do we. By the time we both come of age, there is a bond, an unbreakable bond. A mount is a mount for life.” She was rubbing a hand absently on Sabee’s broad forehead as she spoke, the Golnem leaning into the touch with closed eyes.

     Tammy gave a little, breathless laugh. “Aliens. Are you serious? Aliens?”

     Molly glanced back at her with a raised eyebrow. “Says the woman talking to a blue lizard and his pet rhino-cat,” she pointed out.

     “Aliens are real, Tammy,” the Doctor assured her. “The real question is, what’s a Komnor doing all the way out here? Humans aren’t supposed to know about aliens, well, at least not this colony of humans. How’d you get here?”

     Alsik’s eyes grew hard, and she let out a low hissing noise. The Golnem tensed in response to her rider’s change in mood. “Sabee and I wandered too far from home,” she told them bitterly. “We strayed away from the others, and that’s why we’re the only ones they found. I was off, climbing a tree to try and figure out where we were, and that’s when humans came and took Sabee.” Her voice sharpened with anger as she said, “They stunned her and drugged her, tied her paws together and dragged her onto their ship.”

     Molly felt a rush of sympathy. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. Humans could be really, truly awful sometimes. She had learned that the hard way.

     The Komnor lowered her head, tone ashamed as she admitted, “I was too far away, I couldn’t stop them. I only just managed to sneak onto their ship behind them before it took off. I hid and watched, tried to figure out how to sneak Sabee off, but we were already in space. We landed on a strange planet, and the humans who took Sabee exchanged her with others, and pushed her onto this ship.” Eyes sharp with disgust, she gave a jerking nod towards Shane’s body. “That man was one of them. He’s the one who stuck needles in my Sabee and made her weak, who kept her from being able to fight back.” There was no remorse as she looked down at Shane’s body, just cold fury. “She wouldn’t have killed him, but she scented me and knew I was near. She was protecting me.”

     Tammy’s eyes widened. “Wait. That thing – she’s what killed Mindy, isn’t she?”

     Sorrow filled Alsik’s eyes. “That was an accident,” she said softly. “The big man was in here, giving Sabee more needles. The woman opened the door and saw them, and the big man startled. The woman tried to run, but the man tried to stop her, roughly. I was watching. Sabee saw that the woman was in danger, so she tried to help, but she was so weak and groggy, she clawed the woman instead.” The Golnem seemed to sense her rider’s distress, for she rubbed her muzzle against Alsik’s side, letting out a worried grunt. She rubbed the creature’s forhead soothingly as she continued, “Once I saw what happened, I knew the human would punish Sabee. So I decided to distract them instead.”

     “You’re the one who shut the ship down,” the Doctor realized.

     Alsik nodded. “I’d been watching the humans for weeks. I observed the human making the ship run, and I figured out how to shut it down. I knew it would buy Sabee more time until I figured out a way to save her.” The Komnor looked pleadingly at Tammy as she continued to stroke Sabee’s forehead, still positioned in front of her, defending her. “Please, Sabee didn’t mean to kill your friend. It was the man’s fault, not hers. Do not punish her.”

     Tammy hesitated, looking uncertainly at the Doctor. Before she could say anything, Molly rose to her feet. She nodded towards Sabee. “May I?” she asked.

     Alsik hesitated. Her amber gaze flitted from the Golnem to the human for a few moments, then she reluctantly stepped back. Molly slowly approached the Golnem, feeling a mix of awe and wariness. The creature didn’t seem to notice her approach. Even as she touched a hand to the creature’s broad cheek, she just shuddered lightly. Molly saw that her eyes were dull and glazed, unfocused on anything, and she could feel how unnaturally still the creature was. She turned back to the Doctor and Tammy. “Alsik’s right,” she told them, “Sabee’s been drugged.”

     The first mate glanced over at Shane’s body, then sighed, her tensed shoulders relaxing. “I believe you,” she said quietly. “Shane’s definitely the kind to do something that heartless, he never cared about anyone in the ‘verse ‘cept himself.” She took a step forward, crouching down so she was eye-level with the Komnor. In a solemn tone, she told Alsik, “I am so sorry this happened to you. Believe it or not, not all humans are like this. I can’t fix what’s been done, but I promise you, I’m gonna make sure you and Sabee make it back home without any further mishaps. I’ll talk to Tess, and once the boat’s moving again, we’ll turn her around and point her towards your planet.”

     The Komnor’s eyes lit up with shock and joy. “You mean it?” she breathed.

     Tammy nodded. “I give you my word,” she said firmly.

     Alsik let out a shrill trilling noise of joy. She skittered up onto Sabee’s back, wrapping all four arms around her neck. “You hear that, Sabs?” she squeed with joy. “We’re going home!”

     “No one’s going home.”

     Molly stiffened at the voice. She was fast enough to pull out her gun and whirl around to face the threat, but Tammy didn’t have her gun in hand before one was trained on them. The newcomer shifted her pistol to point at Molly, eyes narrowed. “Put the gun down, preacher,” she said softly.

     Tammy stared at her in shock. “Tess?” she breathed.

**SCENEBREAK**

     “Seriously, how long does it take to fix a bloody spaceship anyway?” Donna grumbled. It had been over an hour, and the consulting detective was still working away over the engine. He was too wrapped up in his work to bother responding, which was a shame. A bit of a snarking match would’ve been a welcome distraction from everything else that was happening.

     The intercom suddenly buzzed back on, and Ty’s voice sounded. “ _How’s it looking over there?_

     Sherlock came out from behind the machine, striding over to the intercom on the wall. He pressed down the intercom button and reported, “Almost done, shouldn’t take more than three minutes.”

     “ _I’m good on my side, and the twins have the side engines ready,_ ” Ty informed him. “ _We’re waiting on you._ ”

     “It won’t be long,” Sherlock promised. He shut off the intercom, then made his way back to the engine, not bothering to look at Donna as he settled back into his spot behind the engine. Donna let out a worried sigh, feeling like her insides were twisting themselves into knots. The Doctor and Molly were still out there, and someone on _Ol’ Broomtail_ had murdered the pilot. And all she could do was sit.

      _Come on you space nuts. You two better be okay._

**SCENEBREAK**

     Captain Tess Jones of _Ol’ Broomtail_ stood in front of them, a gun pointed steadily at Molly’s head. The companion felt a thrill of fear, but her gun was still pointed at Tess, and she knew she had the Doctor and Tammy backing her up. She forced herself to glare defiantly at Tess.

     Tone clipped and blunt, Tess ordered, “Put the gun down, and step away from my cargo.”

     “ _Your_ cargo?” the Doctor repeated, voice suddenly sharp with anger.

     Tammy shook her head, staring at Tess like she didn’t believe she was there. “No, no, this was Shane,” she said. “Shane did this, he said it was his cargo.”

     Tess gave her sister a pitying look. “Come on, Tamara. You really think that ape could pull this off hisself? Nothing happens on my ship that I don’t know about.”

     “What about the crew?” the first mate snapped, suddenly furious. She glared at her sister, fist clenched as she demanded, “Didn’t the crew deserve to know? Didn’t I? I’m your damn sister, Tess. And you decided it’d be a good idea to go behind everyone’s back, behind _my_ back, and become a damn slave trader!”

     The captain rolled her eyes. Her tone was condescending as she sneered, “Slave trader? Hardly. It ain’t like its human, Tams.”

     “That don’t matter,” Tammy told her firmly. “They got rights like anyone else. It ain’t right treating ‘em like cargo, and you know it. Or at least, I thought you did.”

     Tess raised an eyebrow. “They?” she repeated with confusion. Her gaze slipped over to the Golnem in question. Her lips twitched into a slight smirk as she noticed the Komnor crouching down on Sabee’s neck. “Oh, hey there fella’. Didn’t know I’d paid for two for the price of one.”

     Alsik let out a threatening rattling noise in her throat. “I’m not letting you take Sabee.”

     The captain just looked amused, retorting, “I’ll take whatever I damn well want.”

     Tammy took a slow step in front of the two aliens, hands held up in a defensive stance. “Tess, what the hell are you thinking?” she demanded. “Tess, we’re sisters, we fought in a war together, you wore the same brown I did in that war. Don’t you remember why we were fighting in the first place? To keep people free.”

     “ _You_ fought for freedom and liberty and justice for all,” Tess corrected. “You always were naïve, _mei-mei_. I recall fighting to keep the Alliance and their rules and regulations away from my trading zone.”

     “You never would’ve done this to someone during the war,” Tammy said desperately.

     Tess just rolled her eyes. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

     The first mate took a slow, shuddering breath, eyes closed and expression slightly pained. When she opened her eyes, they were blazing with fury, expression hard and unyielding. “So that’s the legacy of the great Captain Tess Jones,” Tammy spat out. “The great sister I always looked up to. You fought a war to save your own skin, and now you’re dabbling in slave trade for a damn profit.”

     “It’s called survival, little sis,” the captain told her.

     “This isn’t survival, this is greed,” Tammy growled. “This ain’t what I signed on this crew for. I’m not letting you do this.”

     Tess looked at her sister with a softened, almost pitying expression. “So what now, Tamara?” she asked softly. “You gonna kill me? Shoot down your own flesh and blood? You’re my sister, Tams. I don’t wanna kill you. Don’t make me.”

     Tammy let out a humorless laugh as she pointed out, “Ain’t nobody’s made you do anything, Tess. You brought this all down on your own head.”

     “Just leave it be, Tammy,” Tess begged. “We’ll kill the nosy passengers, sell the aliens and make a fortune. We can do it together.”

     “And what about the crew?” Tammy asked bitingly. “They stumble on Sabee like Mindy did, you gonna kill them too? You gonna kill Ty? Or Zack, or Ryan? Ryan, who’s already screwed over enough by his parents basically beating him into silence? You gonna finish the job and actually off the kid? These people are our crew, Tess, they’re our family. And these folks,” she waved her hand to indicate both time travelers and aliens, “they don’t deserve this crap. I’m not letting you do this."

     Tess looked her sister up and down, measuring how serious she was, then sighed. "I didn't want to have to do this, little sister," she said quietly. "I'm sorry."

     Molly clicked the safety on her gun, more to remind them she was there than anything. As Tess’s gaze snapped back over to her, she pointed out clearly, “You’re not going to do anything. We’re not going to let you.”

     Tess narrowed her eyes. “Fine then,” she said coolly. “Shoot me, if you’re gonna. But I’ve got my gun on you too, honey, and I’ve been shooting at cans since I could crawl. I ain’t betting on you getting a shot off before I shoot you between the eyes.”

     The companion’s hand fidgeted slightly, fingers curling vaguely over the hilt of gun. She had never actually fired a gun before. That whole year she had carried it at her side, using it as a source of comfort, a sense of protection, and in some instances, an actual form of defense and intimidation. At some points, when people had decided they didn’t want the famous Molly Hooper leaving in one piece, she’d used the gun as a form of persuasion to give her safe passage, but not at any time had she actually shot somebody. And now, she didn’t know if she could.

     Molly hesitated, weighing it over. She could go for a wounding shot, but even with that, there was no guarantee she wouldn’t miss, or that Tess wouldn’t bleed out. It was too deliberate, too dangerous. And there was the ingrained distrust of guns, the way the Doctor felt about them, the way she had. She just couldn’t.

     She began to lower her gun, but before she could, the lights on the ship flickered back on very suddenly, the engine whirring to life. Tess looked away for a quick moment, distracted by the lights. While she was distracted, there was movement in the corner of Molly’s eye, and suddenly, a gunshot rang.

     Tess crumpled to the ground, already dead, eyes still frozen wide in shock as she bled out from a gunshot wound to the head. Molly stared at her in shock, then looked over to see Tammy standing with her gun raised, pointed steadily at where Tess had been standing.

     The Doctor stared at Tammy in shock, voice sharpened with rage. “You didn’t have to kill her!”

     Tammy glared coldly down at the body, voice devoid of any remorse. “She was never going to stop,” she said as she stared at the sister she had killed. “It was the only way. It’s over now.”

     The Time Lord glared at her as he snapped, “There’s always another way.”

     The first mate snapped her head up, eyes blazing as she suddenly snarled, “Don’t you _dare_ give me a damn morality speech. That was my sister I just killed. So don’t you think I hate what I just did with everything I have, but it needed to be done. I know my sister. I could’ve taken her out, wounded her, kept her from stopping us for now, but then what? She wouldn’t have stopped. She would’ve kept going after the Komnor and Golnems, as many times as she had to to have made a profit, and she wouldn’t have let anything stop her. I loved my sister. I did, Doctor. But I have to think about what’s best for everyone, for my _crew_. So if you think you somehow know better than me about my own family, then you can go to hell!”

     The Doctor’s expression had softened, something faintly like shame, something more like sympathy. He gave a slight nod, then backed off.

     There was a clatter of running feet down the hallway, then Zack and Ryan burst in through the door. “We heard screaming. What happen-” Zack’s voice broke off, his and Ryan’s eyes wide in shock as they noticed the aliens. There was a few moments of silence, then Zack finally seemed to notice Shane and Tess’s bodies. “Wha… what the hell?” he finally managed.

     “Zack, Ryan, tell Ty we’re turning this boat around,” Tammy ordered them. Her expression was still that cold, fierce expression that was almost terrifying to behold. “Captain Jones has made a rather bad mess of these two’s lives. We’re to return them home, unharmed.”

     The twins looked at each other, uncertain and frightened. Finally, Zack gave a quick nod. “Yes, Captain Jones,” he said quietly.

     Tammy flinched slightly at her new title, but after a few moments, she gave a brief nod. The twins scurried off, and they were left alone with the two bodies.

     For the first time since Alsik had entered the room, Sabee took a few steps forward. The Golnem came right up behind Tammy, butting his wide, furry head against the new captain’s back. Tammy stiffened, then relaxed, leaning slightly into the touch as the Golnem rubbed his head against the captain’s back and arm, letting out a low, comforting purr.

     Molly finally realized her gun was still in her hand. She lowered it, slipping it quietly back into the holster. It was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is, the episode is finally over. It took a while, but we finally reached the end. There's going to be an Interlude after this where we'll see them dropping Alsik and Sabee off, but the episode itself is over.
> 
> Anyway, I decided to draw Sabee (pronounced sA-B, the A pronounced like in Sabre and the bee like the word bee) and Alsik: http://jayie-the-hufflepuff.deviantart.com/art/A-Komnor-and-her-Golnem-410280429
> 
> I will try to post more often. Up next is Planet of the Ood. I'm not sure how far I'm going to stray from canon yet - probably not very far - but the episode after that should be *vastly* different from canon.


	21. Interlude Three: Something Rotten in the State of Hooper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the crew of Ol' Broomtail drops off the aliens, the Doctor begins to truly worry about Molly.

     They stayed on _Ol’ Broomtail_ for three weeks. The trip should’ve taken longer, but the Doctor had hooked up _Ol’ Broomtail_ to the TARDIS’s power, giving her a little extra boost. He had also provided coordinates to the planet Bomia, which he hadn’t visited himself, but knew where it was.

     It hadn’t been an idle three weeks either. Now that they were no longer passengers, and since the crew was now three people short, everyone had been asked to pitch in with work around the ship, including Alsik and Sabee. Sherlock, the Doctor, and Ty had worked together to fly the ship and work the engine. Alsik had proven to be quick and clever when it came to the engine and controls, but mostly she used Sabee to help lug cargo, and pieces of engine that needed moving. Donna and Molly had helped Ryan and Zack prepare meals and sort out cargo. _Ol’ Broomtail_ ’s kitchen was pretty scant, so for three weeks the crew got to enjoy meals cooked in the TARDIS kitchen. This, of course, brought up a few interesting questions, and the Doctor and his companions’ stories were eventually explained over meals. Those meals with the crew of _Ol’ Broomtail_ and the two alien stowaways, laughing and joking and sharing stories, became a highlight of the day for those three weeks.

     The trip had been a bit long for the Doctor’s taste, but after the latest trip, he had the feeling his companions needed the break. He didn’t know what had happened between Sherlock and Donna while they’d been fixing the ship, but they were acting… strange. Strange as in not fighting as much. Sherlock still snarked and Donna still retorted, but there wasn’t nearly as much bite to it. At times, they were downright civil to each other. It was exceedingly disconcerting. The Doctor had begun seriously considering swiping genetic samples off them and doing some serious testing to see what they’d been dosed with.

     Molly, on the other hand, had grown more reserved and skittish. They’d been stuck together on a small ship for three weeks, and yet she hadn’t met his eyes since she’d picked up that gun. He still wasn’t sure what to think of that particular choice of hers. He truly loathed guns, and one of his generally preferred rules was no guns on the TARDIS. Molly had long since returned Tammy’s gun, so that part at least wasn’t an issue. But the fact still remained that she had taken and used it, and she had looked knowledgeable about how to do so.

     Anyone else, he would have counted it as a mark against their character, being willing to use a gun to intimidate and threaten, but this was Molly. Caring, uncertain Molly Hooper who’d saved his life on the moon and come with him to save as many people as possible, with no regard for herself. The Molly Hooper who had cared for the clueless John Smith for three months, who had stopped an eager, ruthless man from hurting anyone. She was his companion, his friend. For three months, she’d been his little sister, and that was still what she felt like to him, the shy, uncertain human he’d grown close to and protective of. Rather than feeling irritated by her judgment, now that he’d had time to think and the initial shock had worn off, all he felt was concern.

     Before that Year, Molly would’ve never looked twice at a gun. Now, she held it like she knew how it was supposed to fit in her hand. That told the Doctor that something had happened to her, and until now he’d been too wrapped up in himself to notice. And now Molly wouldn’t even look at him.

     And he didn’t know how to fix it.

**SCENEBREAK**

     After three weeks, they finally reached Bomia. Alsik had hardly been able to sit still. While the Doctor and Sherlock worked on landing _Ol’ Broomtail_ she kept skittering excitedly around the bridge, letting out cheerful trilling noises. Sabee was in there too, sitting awkwardly in the corner, head and shoulders hunched over awkwardly and paws and tail all tucked in tightly. She looked far too large to exist in the space. As her rider skittered around, she just sat in her corner, letting out a rumbling, purring noise. The excitement in the room was tangible.

     They finally managed to land _Ol’ Broomtail_ on Bomia’s surface. As they settled her down, the Doctor clicked on the intercom and announced, “We’re planetside, ladies, gentlemen, Golnems, and Komnors! Everyone off the ship!”

     He switched off the comm with a _click_. As he and Sherlock stood, Aslik let out a joyful screech and raced out the doorway, Sabee following quickly.

     The crew filed out onto the planet’s surface. Alsik and Sabee had already beaten them out there. The Komnor was skittering along the ground on all six legs, while Sabee was on her back, rubbing eagerly against the surface of her home planet, letting out a low, rumbling groan of joy. The crew stood back, watching with warm smiles as the Komnor and Golnem reunited with their home.

     Finally, Alsik scampered back to the crew, a huge grin spread across her face. “I… thank you. _Thank you_. I can’t –”

     Tammy cut her off. “Y’ain’t gotta thank us. You shoulda never been taken away from here in the first place.”

     “Yeah, but not many would’ve brought us back,” Alsik pointed out. “You could’ve made a fortune off of two aliens, but you brought us home instead. Thank you for that.” Before Tammy could reply, Alsik came in close and wrapped all four arms around her legs in a tight hug. The captain looked surprised for a moment, then returned the hug as best she could, crouching down to Alsik’s level to give her a full hug. The Doctor watched with a warm smile. This was one of the reasons he loved exploring the universe. The general goodness of people, the exchange of moments like this, these were what he traveled for.

     As Alsik pulled into a tighter hug, the Doctor heard her tell Tammy, “I am so sorry about what you had to do to your sister. I can’t even imagine.”

     Tammy stiffened, but after a moment she just replied, “I did what I had to.”

     When Alsik finally pulled back, she and Sabee were immediately pulled into a fierce group hug from Zack and Ryan, quickly joined by Ty and Tammy, and eventually the Doctor and his companions. Everyone had grown fairly close over their time together on _Ol’ Broomtail_ , so there was a certain warmth to their goodbyes. Sabee even got in on it, giving the Doctor and the others a wet, sloppy lick on the cheek.

     As Alsik clambered onto Sabee’s back, she gave the crew a sad smile. “Listen, if any of you are ever nearby, or you ever need a place to stay, you’re welcome to stop by the village,” she told them. “Anytime you want.”

     Tammy let out a slight snort. “That probably won’t be happening anytime soon. We go where the work is, and ain’t no work to be found out here. But who knows? I ever get too old for the life of crime, I might stop in for a spell.”

     Alsik let out a bright laugh at that. “I’ll miss you guys,” she said warmly.

     Tammy sobered. “Good luck, Alsik,” she said softly.

     “Yeah, Ally,” Zack said with a smirk, “don’t go getting yourself pinched again. There’s only so many times we can come swooping in to the rescue.”

     “And if we do see you again,” Ty added, “could you maybe not wreck the ship?”

     The Komnor laughed. “I’ll do my best.” With that, she turned and rode off, Sabee bounding off into the distance.

     All that was left behind was the crew of _Ol’ Broomtail_ , and a Doctor who didn’t know what to do about his companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so here's that interlude I promised. Basically, I just wanted to sum up the Doctor's current thoughts about Molly, and how it all ended with Alsik and Sabee.
> 
> Oh, and remember how I said Planet of the Ood wasn't going to be very different from the original form? Well, I've had a new idea on how to change it, and now it might be very, *very* different from the original, if I can make my idea work. Here's hoping.


	22. The Last Thread: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the Doctor heads to the Planet of the Ood, Sherlock has different plans.

     “So, where to today?” the Doctor asked eagerly. Everyone was gathered in the console room. Sherlock and Molly leaning back against the railing, side by side, Donna standing closer to the door, and the Doctor leaning over the console, fiddling around with the monitor.

     The Doctor continued, “I was thinking of setting the controls at random today, having ourselves a little mystery trip. What do you all think?” The Time Lord seemed overly eager today. He’d been like that ever since their trip on _Ol’ Broomtail_ two months ago. It was like he was trying to force a more cheerful atmosphere. Donna didn’t know what had caused the change, but she had a feeling, by the way that Molly looked uncomfortable whenever he tried to pull her into a conversation, that something must have happened between the two of them on _Ol’ Broomtail_.

     Sherlock spoke up from his spot on the railing. “Sorry Doctor, afraid I’ll be sitting this one out.” The Time Lord raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment as the detective continued, “I need to stop off on Earth for a bit. I’ve got some work to get done.”

     Donna felt a spark of interest. She knew what that meant; Sherlock was going after more of Moriarty’s men, the ones who had forced him to fake his own death and leave his friend. He’d made trips like that before, back when she still loathed the stick insect of a detective, but before she knew about John and Moriarty, she hadn’t truly understood the significance of them. Now she knew. He was trying to find a way back home.

     The Doctor gave a quick nod. “Alright then. Quick stop off on Earth, then we’ll-”

     “Actually, Doctor,” Donna interrupted, “I think I’ll be joining Sherlock on this one.” She turned to the detective, who was staring at her with an eyebrow raised in surprise. “If that’s alright. Like I said before, I want to help.”

     Sherlock’s sharp, intelligent eyes did a quick scan of her, considering. Then he gave a quick jerk of a nod. “I suppose. Might as well.” With a slight smirk, he added, “Besides, it’d be cruel to leave the Doctor and Molly to have to deal with you, the way you’d be going on if I left you here.”

     Donna let out a snort. “It’d be nothing compared to the earful you’d get when you got back,” she retorted. She noticed the Doctor and Molly exchanging a slightly baffled look, their first real interaction in weeks. The companion rolled her eyes. The other two travelers seemed completely flummoxed by the change in her and Sherlock’s attitude. She couldn’t really blame them. The two of them had gone from ripping each other’s heads off to almost entirely good-natured banter with little explanation. She was actually kind of enjoying their confusion, especially the Doctor’s. It did him good be properly confused about something now and then.

     The Doctor asked cautiously, “You sure about that? I mean, you really want to be stuck on Earth for that long? No telling how long Sherlock’s going to take.” Donna knew what he was really asking – did she want to be stuck with Sherlock that long.

     The companion smirked at the Time Lord. “I’ll be fine, I think,” she said sweetly, drawing confused look from the Doctor and a snort of amusement from Sherlock.

     The Time Lord looked between her and Sherlock a few times, then gave a somewhat helpless, defeated sort of shrug, replying, “Alright, just call me to let me know when you want to get picked up.” He turned back to his other companion, grin suddenly brighter than ever. “So that just leaves us then, eh Molly?”

     The former pathologist looked slightly panicked at this. Her gaze flitted from the Doctor to Sherlock as she hastily replied, “Actually, I think I’d better go with Sherlock and Donna. Someone’s got to keep them from ripping each other’s heads off.”

     Hurt flashed in the Doctor’s eyes. Donna and Sherlock exchanged a swift glance. Molly’s meaning couldn’t have been more clear; she didn’t want to be left alone with the Doctor.

     The Doctor hesitated, looking slightly crestfallen as he stood awkwardly beside the console. “Well… alright then,” he said softly. “Guess I’m on my own then. Well.”

     Donna felt a pang of sympathy for the Time Lord. He depended on his companions more than he let on, and it was honestly a bit pathetic to see him now, standing listlessly beside the console. She was starting to have second thoughts about going with Sherlock and leaving the Doctor on his own, but she had promised Sherlock she would help him. Besides, it might actually be a good thing to get Molly on her own for a bit. Donna had some questions she wanted answered, and she had a feeling that conversation would be more comfortable to have away from the Doctor.

     The Time Lord’s disappointed expression faded, replaced by a somewhat forced grin. “Right then!” He slammed a lever down, causing the TARDIS to shudder to life, the console humming with energy. As the ship vibrated with pent-up energy, the Doctor asked, “So, Sherlock, where to? 21st Century London?”

     Sherlock gave a brief nod. “London, November 1st, 2011.”

     The Doctor nodded. “Alright then.” With a burst of energy, he started throwing up switches and tapping at random buttons. The TARDIS gave a massive shudder as she was thrown into flight. The time rotor started pumping, the lights flashing, the TARDIS letting out that _vworp vworp_ sound that Donna had once been so desperate to hear again.

     The flight only lasted a few moments before the ship slowly shuddered into a landing. The Doctor flicked off a final switch, then stepped back, clearing the path to the door. “Go ahead then.”

     Sherlock started off towards the door, followed closely by Molly and Donna. As she passed the Doctor, Donna gave him a quick, reassuring smile.

     She wasn’t sure exactly why Molly was so eager to get away from him, but she was going to find out why. For both of their sakes.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Sherlock didn’t watch as the TARDIS dematerialized behind them. He was focused on the city in front of him. Masses of people were hurrying to and fro, simple, ordinary humans, so easy to read. The woman fiddling with her phone across the street had just come from a less-than-successful business meeting. The man trying to hail a cab was going to visit his girlfriend in order to make up for their recent fight.

     Somehow, for all planets they visited and all the sights they saw, Sherlock thought there would always be a part of him that wanted to return to Earth. There was something comforting in the familiarity. He could read every face, every slumped shoulder, and though he was getting better, it was still faster than he could read any alien. He _knew_ Earth and its humans. And though he would never admit it aloud to anyone, this was his _home_.

     Donna stepped up beside him, voice breaking through his thoughts. “What’re we doing in 2011?” she asked, looking around the crowd with interest. “Didn’t you fake your death in 2012?”

     “Observant as ever, Noble,” he quipped. The ginger woman was still annoyingly thick sometimes, but something had changed in his perception of her. She had faced him and forced him to listen, had demanded that he explain himself. She had thrown all of his barbed words back in his face, and while it was nothing new for someone to be displeased with his observations, this had been different. She had pinned him to the spot, demanded his attention, respect, convinced that she had earned it. That was when he had realized there was more to Donna Noble than met the eye.

     When he had explained about John and Moriarty, her reaction had surprised him. He had expected the tired, generic “I’m sorry,” sympathy without understanding, or else further anger. But when Donna said sorry, she _meant_ it. She really, truly felt sorry for Sherlock Holmes. And she had seen through him and his words, unusually percept. She had seen just how much John meant to him, and had understood it in a way Sherlock wasn’t used to. For someone so thick and generally unintelligent, Donna was strangely perceptive when it came to sentiment.

     Since that talk, Donna had still been her usual, unobservant, irritatingly thick self. But Sherlock understood her better now. And she seemed to understand him better too. They still quarreled, his cold logic butting heads with her strong morals, but there was no bite behind it anymore. Despite himself, Sherlock found herself starting to appreciate her.

     Molly’s voice brought his attention back to his fellow companions. “Enough with the sarcasm, Sherlock. Just tell us why we're here."

     The detective turned his attention onto Molly, giving her a brief scan. The way her hair was slightly mussed on one side and her leather jacket slightly disheveled were so familiar to him now that he needed no other signs to tell him that Molly had been spending the morning in the TARDIS library. She'd been doing that more recently, ever since _Ol' Broomtail_. It was obvious; she was trying to avoid the Doctor. And he knew exactly why.

     Memories of the Year That Never Was ran through his head, an irritating shift from the very deepest pits of his mind, where he tried to keep them. He was mostly hardened to human suffering, self-proclaimed sociopath that he was, and yet even he had been affected by what he'd seen that year. So many dead, and the rest enslaved, hopeless, and occasionally violent. It was an overwhelming display of human nature, besides being an overly dangerous and miserable year. The worst had been when John had -

     No. He wouldn't think about that. And more often than not, he didn't have to, because he was focused on the task at hand. The mission was what he immersed himself in. His mission, to take down Moriarty's network, the web with so many threads, to take it apart string by string. As long as he was focused completely on that and didn't let any other thought it, he would keep it together until he made it home again. His mind was organized enough that he could compartmentalize his thoughts accordingly, and more often than not, the Year stayed tucked away in a dark cellar in his mind palace.

     Molly, he knew, wasn't so lucky. Her mission had ended on the Valiant. She had stopped the Master and saved the Earth, and now that it was over, she had nothing but the unorganized life of the TARDIS to keep her thoughts from swinging over to that Year. Sherlock might have been unclear on the finer points of sentiment and what did and didn't make people upset, but after spending a year almost constantly in Molly's company, he knew her mind pretty well.

     Sherlock knew that, for whatever reason, she didn't want to talk to the Doctor about it. He had learned to respect her over the Year, so he had no intentions of bringing that subject up around her or the Doctor.

     The detective straightened, chin lifted as his quick eyes sifted through the crowd. "Since the TARDIS gives me leeway to travel anywhere in time, I've had a much easier time of taking down Moriarty's network than I normally would have," he told them, shooting off his explanations at rapid-fire speed. "Using the TARDIS computers, I've been reading solved and unsolved crimes, articles in the news, any tiny hint of Moriarty's network, so I could figure out as many of its members as possible. The rest I learned by talking to certain higher-up members. With the TARDIS, I've been able to jump around in time and make trouble for them at just the right moments. Have an informant ready to spill names to the police here, hack into bank accounts so that criminals suddenly go bankrupt there, all at the exact right moments to allow them to get caught and to have enough proof to put them away for the longest possible sentence. It's taken a bit of work and patience, and no small amount of brilliance on my part."

     "Yeah, yeah, quit boasting, you stick insect, and get to the point," Donna grumbled, though her tone was mildly irritated rather than one of biting fury.

     Sherlock smirked. "I've cut all the threads from Moriarty's web, except for this last one. Just one last piece for the puzzle."

     "And what piece is that?" Molly asked.

     Sherlock's eyes finally found the man they'd been searching for. His lips quirked into a cruel little grin of triumph. "Peter Warren."

     He was a proper-looking man, with an expensive suit and a very groomed look to his face and hair, down to the nearly trimmed mustache and cleanly shaven jaw. His step was quick and assertive as he made his way through the crowd. Sherlock could read every line in his form and being, and they all pointed to two things; money and ambition. This was a man of single-minded greed, with the smarts and the will to get whatever it was he wanted. But not, perhaps, an especially cruel man, or an overly brave one.

     Without a word, he stepped out into the crowd, falling comfortably into a spot far enough behind Warren that he wouldn't notice him, but close enough to keep the man in sight.

     Molly and Donna exchanged a quick glance, then fell into step beside him. "You wanna elaborate on that?" Donna asked pointedly.

     In a low voice, he told them, "Peter Warren works in the public defender's office. He's in a perfect position to manipulate court cases for Moriarty’s needs. Nothing major, of course, just subtle little shoves. Push back a court hearing, or speed it up, whatever works best to Moriarty’s advantage.”

     “In case any of his guys get caught, yeah?” Donna guessed.

     “Not just for Moriarty’s men,” Sherlock corrected, “Although, yes, sometimes it is essential to get his higher-ups out of custody. But sometimes it isn’t about his followers at all. Moriarty likes to stay informed about the criminal world, and anything that could even possibly work to his advantage in the future. The manipulation of any court case could one day be twisted to his purpose.”

     Donna let out a snort. “Sounds like a pleasant fellow,” she said sarcastically.

     Sherlock just smirked in response, though inside his blood boiled at the thought of Moriarty, who had taken so much from him. It had all started out as a game, just a wonderful, challenging game. He hadn’t seen the danger to the people he cared about until it was too late. Now all Moriarty would ever be to him was the one who had forced him to leave behind everything he had ever known and cared about.

     Molly seemed to share the same sentiments. She told Donna in a hard voice, “Trust me, you’re lucky you never had to meet him.” Sherlock remembered the stand-off at the pool, where Moriarty had Molly strapped to a bomb. He had a feeling that was the memory in Molly’s mind too, judging by the gleam of hatred and distant fear in her eyes.

     Sherlock continued, “Warren is the last piece I need. I need to get him to turn informant on the right person at the right time.”

     “And what if he doesn’t?” Donna asked.

     “He will,” Sherlock said darkly.

     Donna didn’t argue further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Changed up some of the timelines. Now it's been two months since Ol' Broomtail.
> 
> Remember how I said I would never, ever write from Sherlock's point of view because he's such a bloody difficult character to write? Well... yeah. I wanted to show his views on Molly's predicament, and how his relationship with Donna has changed. I'm still not sure I wrote him right. He seems a bit more focused on emotion and less on logic than I had intended. Ah well. I got my point across.
> 
> I tried to make him and Donna sound non-shippy and just friends. Did I succeed? I think I did. I suppose they could be somewhat shippable, but I really don't think Donna goes for skinny intelligent, arrogant guys, going by her utter distaste for having a relationship with the Doctor.
> 
> So yeah, at the very last minute, I came up with a completely new plot idea for Planet of the Ood. The Doctor's still going to be hanging out with the Ood, but for the most part we'll be sticking to Sherlock, Molly and Donna.
> 
> And yeah, things are getting even more awkward between the Doctor and Molly. We'll address that eventually, but it's going to be a little bit yet.
> 
> There may or may not be more Sherlock POV ahead.
> 
> On a completely unrelated note, I turned 18 four days ago! :D Yeah, so, I'm actually a proper adult now. Fun stuff.


	23. The Last Thread: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock explains his plan to talk to Peter Warren.

     Molly followed silently after Sherlock, expression closed off and arms crossed tightly in front of her chest. As she walked along, she tried to convince herself that she really was here to help Sherlock. He was her friend, after all. Sure, he’d been a pain in her ass for a few good years first, not to mention being the man she loved and using that fully to his advantage. But, after a year of traveling around the Earth with him and facing the end of the world and beating it with him, she knew that what had once been a tragic crush backed by a fierce resentment had turned into mutual respect and friendship on both sides. She wanted nothing more than to help him return home to John and the other people he cared about. That, at least, was definitely true.

     The slightly less true part was that being her _only_ reason for coming along. And she was trying very hard to ignore that. Because she really, _really_ didn’t want to think about how she came here to avoid the Doctor.

     Ever since _Ol’ Broomtail_ , it had just been too hard to spend any time alone with the Doctor. He’d asked too many questions, brought the memories she’d buried deep down and tried to hide away and torn them up to the surface. And she knew he’d do it again. He’d keep poking and digging the way he did. It was because he cared, she knew it. But that didn’t make it any easier to think about. Nor could she any longer lie to herself about her resentment towards the Doctor. So, instead, she ignored him, prolonging the inevitable confrontation, because she could, and because it was easier.

     Judging by the way Donna kept sneaking little glances at her, however, it looked like she’d avoided the Doctor’s probing only to fall prey to Donna’s curiosity. She crossed her arms a little more tightly over her chest, dropping her gaze away from the ginger woman. Without looking at Donna, she quickened her pace to catch up to Sherlock. He glanced briefly back at her, raising an eyebrow, but making no comment. Molly knew he’d probably figured out her reason for discomfort already, and was both surprised by and grateful for his silence about it. Then again, he did have bigger things to worry about.

     The man they were following, Peter Warren, turned off into a tall, skyscraper building with a sign out front labeled, “ _Arthur and Bell Offices_.” Sherlock paused, watching as Warren entered the building.

     After a few moments, Donna asked the detective, “Aren’t we gonna follow him in?”

     Sherlock shook his head. “No, I’d almost certainly be seen in there, and I’m currently giving a rather public appearance in court across town.” He pulled aside his scarf, reaching inside his jacket to pull out a key that was hanging around his neck, showing it to Donna and Molly as he explained, “I’m mostly hidden by the perception filter, but there are plenty of other lawyers who have offices in there. That building is filled with people who notice things and read people for a living. Beyond that, Moriarty probably has more than one inside man in there, and they’ll be on the lookout for trouble. This key would be useless.”

     Donna glanced at the key critically. “Perception what?” she repeated.

     Molly tuned out Sherlock’s condescending explanation of how a perception filter worked, instead turning to look at the building. It had been a long time since she’d had to worry about being seen like this. She wasn’t at the top of Moriarty’s kill-on-sight list, but it probably wouldn’t be good for her to be seen by one of his men. November 1st, that was eight months after the business in the pool, the last time she had ever seen James Moriarty. Another eight months before Moriarty killed himself and Sherlock faked his death. Almost exactly in the middle of those two events. She wondered if Sherlock had picked the date for just that reason. Fitting the last piece of the puzzle together right in the middle of the beginning of the game and the end.

     “So how are we getting to Warren?” she asked aloud. “Are we staking the place out?”

     “That was the old plan,” Sherlock replied. He turned to face her, and Molly could see that look in his eyes, that old glazed-over, eyes-blazing, intense look of concentration and thought. It was the expression he wore whenever he was on a case. And this time, Molly knew, the case was more important than ever.

     “Then what’s the new plan?” Donna asked.

     Sherlock finally drew his narrowed gaze off the building, giving Donna one of his knowing little half-smiles. “You’re going to draw him out,” he told her

     Donna looked surprised for a moment. “What, me?” she repeated.

     The detective nodded. “Moriarty’s men know me and Molly,” he explained. “But you’re a new face. You can bring Warren right where we need him.”

     The former temp’s surprise turned into a thoughtful expression. “And where’s that, exactly?” she inquired.

     “A small coffee shop ‘round that corner.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small slip of paper. He handed it to Donna, instructing her, “This will tell him where to meet us. You have to leave this somewhere in his office where he’ll find it, but not right away. And don’t let him see you leaving it. You don’t want Moriarty’s men realizing you’re in on this. And just in case, don’t tell them who you really are.”

     Donna took in a breath, then steeled herself, giving a stiff nod. “Alright then.” She strode past them towards the office building with her shoulders squared and chin held high. Molly and Sherlock quietly watched her step inside, the door swinging shut behind her.

     Quietly, Molly asked, “You’re trusting her with this? The last piece to getting back to John?” She liked Donna, and trusted her, but she was surprised to see Sherlock doing so. Only a week ago those two were at each other’s throats, and now Sherlock was sending her off on her own mission. What had happened to Donna being a brainless oaf and a waste of space?

     Sherlock gave a small little half-nod. “Yes,” he replied simply.

     Molly raised an eyebrow. “Really?” she asked dubiously. “Why? What changed your mind?”

     “She’s managed to surprise me before,” the detective admitted. Molly felt a jolt of surprise at his word choice, but said nothing as he continued, “She really cares. She’ll get the job done.”

     He hadn’t really answered her question, but she supposed she couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t as if she was explaining her sudden cold shoulder act with the Doctor. Instead, she just shook her head with a slight grin. “I can’t believe you just said someone surprised you. I thought someone would have to, I don’t know, torture it out of you or something.”

     The detective didn’t grace her with a response, but she could’ve sworn she saw him give a brief smirk of amusement.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Doctor ran up to the group, calling out, “Sorry, sorry, sorry! Late. Don't mind me.” He halted in front of the woman in charge, who regarded him with an unamused frown. He just grinned back in response. “Hello! The guards let me through.”

     The woman asked lightly, “And you would be…?”

     The Time Lord reached into his coat and pulled out the psychic paper, flashing it for her to see. “The Doctor,” he told her, “representing Time Corporation PLC Limited, Intergalatic.”

     She still seemed suspicious, but after a moment, all she said was, “Must have fallen off my list, my apologies. Won't happen again. Now then, Doctor, if you’d like to come with me.” As she started leading the group into the building, she handed the Doctor a packet, telling him, “And here is your information pack, voucher inside. Now if you'd like to come with me, the Executive Suites are nice and warm.”

     The small group were nearly at the door when a loud blaring sounded from a nearby speaker. The Doctor looked up with interest. “Oh, what's that? That sounds like an alarm.”

     The woman hesitated, fear flashing briefly in her eyes. She told him in a clipped tone, “Oh, it's just a... siren, for the end of the work shift. Now then, this way, quick as you can!”

     The others followed her inside, but the Doctor lingered for a moment, staring thoughtfully at the speaker, still blaring out the alarm. He hadn’t meant to get himself into trouble again, he really hadn’t. He’d just wanted a nice trip while the others were busy on Earth. Of course, now he’d ended up on some sort of ice planet with an Ood dead in the snow and a corporation with something to hide. How did he always get himself into these things?

     Ah well. At least he’d have something to do until he had to pick Sherlock and the others up again.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Donna fought back a nervous fluttering in her chest as she made her way through the building. It was one thing sneaking into Adipose Industries on her own on a whim, but this was different. Sherlock’s future depended on this. That was more than a little intimidating.

     She shook herself slightly, forcing her chin up again. _Stop fussing, Donna,_ she chided herself, _you’ve done this before, just get on with it._ Repeating that silently to herself, she approached the front desk, where a rather bored-looking man with thick, round glasses sat fiddling idly with his phone.

     The companion waited a moment for him to acknowledge her. When he continued to ignore her, she spoke up in a polite tone. “Excuse me, could you let me know where Mr. Warren is?”

     The man finally looked up at her with an irritated glare. “Do you have an appointment?” he asked in a dull tone.

     Donna hesitated slightly. “An appointment?” she repeated lightly, trying to figure out a way to cover up her mistake. _Where’s the Doctor and his psychic paper when you need it?_

     The man narrowed his eyes. Sounding slightly smug, he droned on, “You need to have a pre-scheduled appointment to see Mr. Warren. If you don’t have an appointment, I’m afraid I can’t let you in.” He leaned back in his chair, looking pleased with himself.

     Donna felt a flash of irritation. Forgetting her earlier nervousness, she puffed out her chest and glared right at him as she snapped, “Listen buster, I don’t need a bloody appointment, alright? I just need to know where that little weasel’s hiding so I can tell him what a useless, rotten, filthy, no-good excuse of a man he is! D’you know what that sorry little rat did to me? He told me it was just gonna be me and him, that’s what he did! I suppose he just happened to forget about the wife he’s got at home!”

     The man raised an eyebrow at that. “Mr. Warren doesn’t have a wife,” he said uncertainly.

     “Oh, he didn’t tell you either?” Donna covered her mistake quickly. “Figures. What, is he messing around with you as well as _three_ other girls?” She shook her head in exasperation as the man shrank away with wide eyes. “Typical bloke, am I right? They’re all the same. It’s just unbelievable. I waste my time, day and night, pining over him, and turns out he’s a bastard like all the rest. Well, he ain’t getting off easy this time! I’m gonna show that sorry bastard what for!”

     The man’s bored, irritable demeanor was gone, replaced by a wide-eyed fear. His gaze darted around the hall, looking terrified at the thought of others overhearing. In a meek, subdued voice, he told her, “Listen, ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to ste-”

     Donna raised her voice even more as she demanded, “Are you defending him?! Have you been covering up for him?!” The man looked even more terrified now. He kept trying to shush her, waving his hands in desperate signals to stop talking as people started to look over to see what the commotion was about. Donna paid no heed to his warnings, growing even louder instead as she raged, “Well, maybe I’ll just stick around here and let you have it then! I’ve got nothing but time on my hands!”

     That was enough to convince him. “Office 304,” he told her hastily. “Just go, and don’t tell him I let you in.”

     The companion tried to hide her sudden surge of triumph and glee. The most she allowed herself was a smug smirk as she said, “Thanks mate.” She turned and sauntered off, leaving the man staring after her, trying to gather the shattered pieces of his dignity.

     Filled with a new confidence, Donna approached the office the clerk had designated. She pushed the door open to see the man they had been following earlier sitting behind a desk. He looked up in surprise when she walked in. “Who are you?” he asked in a rough Scottish accent.

     Donna looked around in fake surprise. “Oh, damn it, this isn’t the right office.” She gave a sheepish smile, crossing across the room to offer a hand to Warren, who shook it warily. “Hi, I’m Sylvia Mott, I’m new here.”

     Peter Warren gave a fake little smile. “Peter Warren,” he replied in a clipped tone.

     “Oh, I’m always getting lost around here,” Donna blathered on, giving a light little laugh. Warren watched her, unimpressed, as she continued, “I just love it here. It’s all so very posh, isn’t it? A step up from where I was before. Imagine, a year ago, I was working in this sleazy little shop, and I -”

     Warren cut her off with a sharp, “Well, this certainly has been fun, but I really have a lot of work to get done.” The dismissal was clear.

     Donna forced herself to keep her cheerful smile. “Of course. I hope I see you around?” Warren didn’t bother to respond. She made her way out of the room, holding back a grin of triumph. She couldn’t let Warren suspect anything, not after she’d stashed the note from Sherlock while she was distracting him.

     As she sauntered up to Sherlock and Molly once outside, she finally allowed herself to wear the smug expression she’d been holding in. “He got the message,” she told them.

     If she didn’t say any better, she’d say Sherlock looked impressed. “You hid it somewhere he’d find it?” he inquired.

     “Oh, he’ll find it,” Donna assured him. “Any lawyer worth his salt is going to have to use his stapler at some point.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     Peter Warren had been having a good day.

     His girlfriend had gotten them tickets to a movie for the night, which meant she’d be sure to dress to impress, which was worth sitting through whatever chick flick she’d been waiting to see. He’d actually been able to get enough work done to leave early, and the case he was working on right now was a landslide. All in all, a pretty good day.

     He had a couple of files he needed for the trial, which he promptly pulled up on his screen and printed out. Once they were all printed, he lifted the thin stack of paper off the printer tray and went to staple them together. And that’s when his good day took a painful nosedive.

     The lawyer noticed a small, folded bit of paper wedged under a corner of the stapler. He frowned. That definitely hadn’t been there before. The man hesitated for a moment, then reached over to pluck it out from under the stapler.

     He carefully unfolded the paper, smoothing it out on his desk before proceeding to read it. A few moments passed. Then he let out a slight gasp. His eyes widened, his cheeks flushed, and terror began clawing at his chest.

     And he’d been having such a nice day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time Lords, I can't even begin to tell you how hard this chapter was to write. I hate having to write about situations and professions that I know nothing about. I'm not even sure if public defenders are a thing in the UK. I don't know how their judicial system works. And I barely know about lawyers or public defenders themselves. Just... ugh. Internet research will only get you so far. This was an absolute pain in the tail to get right. I just hope I can get past this plotline soon and move on to more fun and exciting stuff.
> 
> In other news... what did you all think of the 50th?
> 
> SPOILERS:
> 
> Personally, I enjoyed the Smith/Tennant banter, and I enjoyed Billie Piper and John Hurt's roles way more than I was expecting to (I was so terrified of Moffat messing up Rose's character, but I actually really liked her as the Moment.) But I'm not sure how I feel about Moffat basically just deleting the Time War. Weren't the Time Lords kind of the reason he blew up Gallifrey in the first place? What do you guys think?


	24. The Last Thread: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Molly confront Peter Warren while the Doctor tries to help the Ood.

     Molly glanced around their chosen waiting place with interest. “What, no abandoned warehouses this time?” she asked drily.

     The detective glanced at her with a slightly amused smirk. As he crossed over to the far window and peeked out, he reminded her, “I am, on occasion, capable of subtlety.”

     Donna snorted. “Could've fooled me, mate.” Molly let out a snort of laughter, but Sherlock was too tensed up to react.

     They were all housed in a Starbucks, Donna off to the side hidden away behind a newspaper, Molly leaning back into one of the couches, and Sherlock up and pacing. The three had carefully spaced themselves out so they weren't too conspicuous. Donna was supposed to keep her face hidden so Warren didn't recognize her. She'd argued long and hard with Sherlock over that one. She wanted to be in on the confrontation, but Sherlock had reminded her that with all of Moriary's resources, it would take very little effort to track down her family and take them out. Donna hadn't argued after that.

     Molly sat back in the couch with her legs crossed, tapping her foot anxiously against the table in front of her. A weird, nervous tension was tingling under her skin. She knew exactly what it was that had her on edge; Moriarty. In this time, he was still alive, and she had already made an enemy of him by the pool.

     It was weird to feel scared of something as small as a criminal after facing Daleks and Toclafane. But even after the Year, the most helpless she had ever felt was at that pool, explosives strapped to her chest, forced to say all the horrible things she had thought were true about herself. It was still that little memory in her head, nagging away at her, giving her that little bit of fear even after all that time. And now, Moriarty was alive again, and if this meeting went wrong, they might end up facing him.

     And part of her, the burning, hateful part that had loathed the Master so, the part that had pushed her through the Year, that part of her _wanted_ them to meet him. She felt bad for wishing so. After all, Sherlock's friends and ability to return home all hinged on this going to plan. But even still, she wanted that fear of the small Irish man _gone_. Facing him, and letting him see her unafraid, was the only way she could do that. Molly wasn't the scared girl she'd been the last time they'd met. Now she was brave, confident, strong. She didn't need Jim Moriarty haunting the back of her thoughts any more.

     Molly was distracted from her thoughts as Sherlock crossed in front of her, hands pressed palms together in front of his lips, head bowed and shoulders hunched. Everything about his posture and his movement screamed tension. His expression was dark, but it wasn't his thoughtful, brooding expression when he was on the scent of a case. There was a certain tinge of vulnerability in the expression. It couldn't have been more obvious who he was thinking about.

     Donna peeked out from behind her newspaper, raising an eyebrow at the pacing detective. She commented drily, “He's not coming any faster just 'cause you're wearing the floor away.” Sherlock looked briefly at her, but soon turned his attention back to the window. Donna's expression softened. “I know this is important, Sherlock. But pacing isn't helping anyone. Come on, just sit for a minute.” With a final, anxious glance at the window, Sherlock reluctantly turned away from the window and withdrew to the couch. He threw himself down on it with a dramatic air, sitting up on the edge with muscles still tight with tension.

     Donna looked at the detective with soft sympathy. “Better. Now, let's go over the plan. What exactly are we doing once Warren gets here?”

     Molly half-expected Sherlock to ignore her, but instead he took a deep breath, expression growing thoughtful. She realized with a start of surprise that Donna had asked just the right question to distract Sherlock from his worries. “Warren is, put simply, an idiot. He isn't actually part of Moriarty's network. I doubt he even fully knows who he's working for.”

     “Then what use is he to us?” Molly asked.

     “Information,” the detective replied coldly. There was a hungry gleam in his eyes, a cold fury that made Molly's skin crawl. She didn't fancy being Warren when he had to face the detective. This was more than just Sherlock in his element. This was a man who had lost everything and was determined to get it all back, and Warren was about to be the man standing in his way. Not a safe place to stand.

     “Warren, as I said, is an idiot. He got too curious for his own good, started poking around Moriarty's network. He managed to stumble upon something big.”

     “So you're going to get him to tell you what it is so you can use it against Moriarty?” Donna asked.

     Sherlock snorted. “Don't be absurd. I already know what it is. Why else would I know that he knows anything in the first place?”

     Donna rolled her eyes, drawing her newspaper back up in front of her face. “Sheesh, you're cheery today,” she snarked.

     The detective ignored her and continued, “I need to convince him to reveal what he knows to the right people at the right time. I've already set it up so that once the information comes to light, certain people will already have been caught, and the information will be enough to land them a life sentence in jail.”

     Molly narrowed her eyes. “That was vague,” she pointed out irritably. “You're worse than the Doctor, babbling on without actually saying anything. Couldn't we at least get some names?”

     Sherlock just gave her a raised eyebrow and a stop-being-an-idiot expression. “It's vague because it's complicated,” he explained in a tone dripping with condensation. “This isn't just one singular act. It's a small part of a very large whole. A web, if you will. This is just one of the many threads connecting the whole picture. This one action will affect many other actions in many small, nuanced ways, a few in bigger ways, and it would take-”

     “Alright, alright, I got it,” Molly cut him off testily.

     The detective's tense expression faltered for a moment, amusement evident in the twitch of his lips, almost reaching a smirk, but not quite managing it. “Looks like I'm not the only _cheery_ one,” he said, mocking Donna's sarcastic use of the word.

     Molly opened her mouth to deny it, but one look from Sherlock told her he wasn't buying it. She settled for facing slightly away from him, tone dark as she reminded him, "You're not the only one with a score to settle against Moriarty." The companion let out a slow breath, then forced herself to turn back to Sherlock with a calm, determined expression. "But this isn't my fight, it's yours. I know what the stakes are for you. I just want you to know, I'm with you on this."

     "Me too," Donna added in an unusually solemn tone. The usually loud and blunt ginger's voice had become soft and warm, gentle with reassurance. Molly had no doubt that she completely meant what she was saying. They would both do whatever it took to help Sherlock get his life back.

     Something flashed in Sherlock's eyes for a moment, something soft and surprised, and grateful. The detective's tense expression softened. In a quiet, sincere tone, he told them, "Thank you." Donna smiled, and Molly just nodded in response.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Doctor felt cold fury as he looked into the container where a few dozen Ood were standing in perfect formation, slaves all lined up in a row.

     He'd met the Ood before on the Impossible Planet. He'd been right there, the signs had been right under his nose, and he hadn't realized. The Time Lord felt sick just thinking about it. He'd flown off in his blue ship, feeling all clever, and left the Ood to die. Rose had been there that time. What would she, his beautiful, wonderful Rose, who always cared so much about others, have thought of him now?

      Thinking about Rose was, as always, too painful. He switched gears and started thinking about his current companions. Sherlock probably would've just chided him for not deducing the obvious rather than really caring about the Ood. At least, he wouldn't have admitted to caring about the Ood. Donna would've gotten in his face with all that fury of hers and made him set things straight. Or, more likely, she would've been comforting the trapped Ood. The loud ginger was always there for anyone that needed warm reassurance. She was a lot like Rose in that; they both cared so much.

     Molly... hmm. He honestly wasn't sure anymore how Molly would've reacted to his screw-up with the Ood. Once, he would've said she would forgive him and done what she could to help the Ood. Now he just didn't know. She was different after the Year, and he was starting to fear that if something didn't change, he might lose her. He cared about her. She had been there for him when he had lost it all, and she was his friend. He didn't want their friendship to be broken forever, not if he could do something to fix it. But he no longer knew which course of action would help them and which would drive her away.

     The Doctor was driven from his thoughts by the sound of an alarm. He gave a crooked grin, saying aloud, "Well, I think that's me." With that, he took off.

     Thinking and worrying about Molly would have to wait. He had some running to do first.

**SCENEBREAK**

     At the front of the store, the door swung open, stopping their conversation dead. Donna flung the paper back up in front of her face, but Molly and Sherlock turned tensely to face the door. The detective felt a thrill of something. The hunger for the game, the chase. The last game had finally begun.

     Warren walked in stiffly, his dark brown eyes darting nervously around the coffee shop. His face was drained of color and he was absently wringing his hands. Sherlock couldn't suppress a small, cruel grin of triumph. The information on the note had Warren properly scared.

     The man's gaze finally reached Sherlock and Molly. The detective drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch, the signal he had told Warren to watch for. Warren's eyes widened in terror at the sight of it. He hesitated, then turned and strode over to the cashier, quietly ordering a black coffee. Sherlock had written expressly in his note that Warren was supposed to order a drink to keep his presence in Starbucks from looking suspicious.

     Once Warren had his drink, he stiffly made his way over, seating himself in a chair across from Sherlock. He opened his mouth to speak, but Sherlock held up a hand, coldly commanding his silence. He knew Warren's type. They liked to feel in control at all times. The best way to unnerve him and get him to be compliant was to _take_ that control away from him. Sherlock was in charge now, and Warren knew it.

     Sherlock dragged out the silence for several moments, not even looking at the man across from him. Bring him down, act like he's barely worth your time. Oh yes, Sherlock was starting to have fun with this. The same thrill a wolf would get in drawing out the kill.

     Warren was sweating profusely, eyes still wide and face still pale. Sherlock's silence only served to unnerve him further, the desired effect. The detective drew it out as long as he knew would work, then finally looked up, boring into Warren with that intense, knowing stare of his. "You know why you're here," he said simply.

     The public defender gave a little jerk of his head as consent. Sherlock smirked, then continued. “You dug a little too far into your employers, and you found something. Explain it, for my colleague's benefit,” he commanded, waving his hand at Molly to indicate her. He could've explained it to Molly easily enough, but he wanted Warren to have to spell it out. Punish him further.

     The man gulped, glancing nervously at Molly. The companion glared him down, eyes cold and unforgiving. The Year had given her ample experience with commanding people's attention. Sherlock was honestly impressed with her improvement from the awkward, shy woman she'd been when he'd met her. She was almost as good as him now. Almost.

     Warren slowly explained, “I had this case a couple of years ago. A woman called Susie Willis was charged with armed robbery. I was contacted by this man; he called himself John Doe. He wanted me to submit a piece of false evidence to swing the trial in her favor. He offered me a good sum of money, and she hadn't exactly killed anybody, so I figured why not? That was it for a while, but every now and then after that, John Doe would contact me again, asking me to do him small favors here and there, always with money. I never thought to refuse. The money was good, and I was clever enough not to get caught.” Sherlock snorted doubtfully at Warren's description of himself as _clever_ , causing Warren to flinch.

     The man quietly continued, “Well, after a while, I got curious. I mean, what did this guy care about the people being tried? Why those cases specifically? So I did a little digging. I started trying to piece together the cases and figure out what they had in common. Eventually, I figured out that these people all had similar connections. They ran in similar circles, talked to a lot of the same people. I realized that there had to be some kind of group conspiracy going on. Probably working together to rip some company off or something.”

     Sherlock sighed, loudly and obviously, causing Warren to cringe. He had called himself clever, but Peter Warren truly was an idiot. The evidence had all been in front of him, the strands of Moriarty's network. He'd just been too stupid to see it. Anyone with half a brain could've made the connection.

     With a nervous glance at Sherlock, the man continued, “Anyway, I decided to take a closer look at John Doe. He was the best way to figure out what these people were up to. I went through some old cases, trying to find his face, 'cause of course I figured, he's gotta be a criminal, right? Well, I didn't find his face until I looked up this old, unsolved murder case. He was there, in the crowd, sort of just watching, but I knew. 'Course I knew. He always had that look about him, that heavy, dangerous sort of air, but I'd never realized he'd actually bloody murdered someone!” Warren was growing even more agitated now, his voice slightly higher, his finger clenching and unclenching, knuckles white. “I looked deeper into it, and I figured out that the evidence had been covered up. It's still out there. The guy he killed, he managed to claw him with his fingernail. A bit of the blood was collected from there. It's probably been dumped by now, but still, if Doe ever figures out what I know...” He didn't have to explain his meaning.

     Molly nodded slowly, narrowed eyes still focused on Warren. “Thank you,” she said stiffly. “Now, let's discuss our terms, shall we Mr. Warren? My colleague has a few details he wants to iron out with you. It would be in your best interest to agree with whatever he asks of you.” She leaned back, letting Sherlock take center stage once again.

     Sherlock leaned forward, his intense gaze unblinking, clearly making Warren uncomfortable. “Mr. Warren, this John Doe is actually a rather dangerous man. His name is Jonas Oldacre. He is guilty of at least three murders, has multiple false identities, and served in the military for several years before being drawn into the criminal world.”

     Warren went white as a sheet. He put his hands over his face, moaning, “Now you've done it. You've doomed me. Now I know too much.”

     “Shut it,” Molly said coldly. The man finally stopped sniveling, uncovering his face and letting out a low, shaky breath. The companion continued to glare at him until he had stopped. “Good. Now shut up and listen.” She looked to Sherlock, who had looked away, the picture of boredom.

     The detective finally turned back to Warren, looking him over critically. After several long moments, he leaned forward again. “You are now a liability to Oldacre. If he ever figures out what you know, rest assured, he _will_ kill you. And if you don't do _exactly_ as I say, I will tell Oldacre myself. You wouldn't last a day.”

     Warren drew in a shaky breath. He looked up to the ceiling, as though praying for divine deliverance, but nothing happened. After a moment, he nodded weakly. “Anything at all. Better blackmailed than dead.”

     Sherlock allowed himself a cruel grin. “Excellent.” Reaching into his coat, he pulled out both an evidence bag and a sheet of paper. He passed them across the table to Warren, who gingerly picked them up. “There's the evidence against Oldacre, both the blood sample, and the test against Oldacre's blood.”

     The man dropped them immediately, as though they were hot to the touch. “No! If I turned them in, I'm as good as dead.”

     The detective rolled his eyes. “No, and you're not going to. At least, not yet. I want you to keep taking Oldacre's money and doing his work. Don't let him suspect anything. Hold onto the evidence, bury it where no one will ever find it. On July 25th, 2012, Oldacre will be prosecuted for an entirely separate crime. It'll be something small, probably a robbery. On that day, I need you to come to court and present the evidence. Oldacre will be in custody already, he won't be able to do anything to you. Then, and only then, will it be safe to come forward.”

     Warren furrowed his brow. “How do you know all this, then? You expect me to believe you? What, you can tell the future or something? This is bollocks.”

     Before Sherlock could correct him, Molly was right there, posture stiff and commanding, every inch the soldier she had been during the Year. “Mr. Warren, do you really think anything you've said to us today is a surprise? We already knew it all. We knew exactly where to find you, we knew where to find the evidence we needed , and we knew who Oldacre was long before it even crossed your mind to look for him. So don't worry about what _we_ know. You just make sure _you_ do what you're supposed to, and we won't have to resort to any unfriendly measures. Got it?”

     Warren hesitated, looking uncertainly down at the evidence in front of him. His gaze flitted from Sherlock to Molly, full of terror and uncertainly. Finally, he carefully picked up the bag and the sheet, giving Sherlock and Molly the pale ghost of a smile. “Got it,” he assured them.

     Sherlock felt a surge of triumph. It was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Forgot to say, I got Jonas Oldacre's name from the Sherlock Holmes story "The Adventure of the Norwood Builder," where Jonas Oldacre is a spiteful man who fakes his death to get back at a woman who refused him.
> 
> Finally, freaking finally. That writer's block was killing me.
> 
> There should only be one more chapter of this episode, then moving on to the next. I've got the next two episodes pretty well planned out, so hopefully updates will pick up more.
> 
> ALSO: On Christmas, I released a sort of Christmas Special for "The Woman Who Counted," set between 42 and Human Nature. Here's a link to it: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1100907
> 
> As for this chapter, I'm actually pretty happy with it. I managed to get Molly involved more. Sheesh, these two are scary when they mean business. Also, I know Donna isn't getting a lot of screentime at the moment, but that's going to change soon, I promise.


	25. The Last Thread: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna tries to talk to Molly and the Ood deliver a cryptic message to the Doctor.

     “And it's really over?”

     “Yes, for the tenth time,” Sherlock replied. He wanted to be irritated, but he couldn't muster it. Not when the relief and joy were hitting him like a freight train. It was really over. It was really, truly over. The last piece of the puzzle was in place. Oldacre would be convicted, which would weaken Moriarty's network enough for the other events he'd set in place to occur. He'd gotten rid of all the big players, scattered the little ones, drained their resources, dirtied the name of James Moriarty forever. Yes, he'd brought back James Moriarty, discrediting Richard Brook. The events had all been set in motion. All that remained now was to jump into the future and watch them all unfold.

     After that...

     The detective paused. He hadn't really let himself think about it. He'd kept himself busy with taking down Moriarty's network, or else he'd focused on learning about alien cultures and whatever crazy nonsense the Doctor had gotten them into. But now... now, he was actually, properly going home. He'd be in 221B again, he'd get to see Mrs. Hudson again, get to insult Anderson and Donovan again, and John...

     John. John Watson. He'd get to see his best friend again, alive and well. The reason he'd kept from thinking about seeing John again for so long was because the last time he had seen his flatmate, other than a quick glimpse on one of his Earthly visits, had been during his makeshift funeral during the Year. John had been dead, and Sherlock hadn't known what to do. John was his first real friend, the one person who had stood beside him even when everyone else had turned against him. The only one. The best man Sherlock had ever known. After his death, Sherlock hadn't been sure he had a purpose anymore. It had taken some sharp words from Molly to remind him. He had to help take down the Master, that was their mission. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, don't look back, don't look forward, just think about the mission and block everything else out. That's how you kept going.

     Even now that John was alive again, Sherlock still had a hard time not associating John Watson with the cold, lifeless body lying on a battlefield of reckless rebels. Idiots. Didn't they know they couldn't win against the Toclafane? They should have known, should have realized. If they had, John wouldn't have died.

     Sherlock shook his head, smiling softly. Who was he kidding? John would've gotten himself killed helping someone somehow. Because that's who he was. He was the man who cared, the man who helped people. Sherlock did what he did because he was bored, because he wanted to prove he was clever. John did what he did because he honestly cared about people. Sherlock knew that no matter what he did, no matter how many people he helped or saved, he would never be as good of a man as John Watson. But he was better with John, and he knew that. That was why he had to go back. That, and he missed John, and their little flat in Baker Street, and the routine of their life.

     Sherlock was distracted from his thoughts by Donna's voice. “You alright then?” The ginger was looking at him with concern.

     The detective shook his head. “I'm fine,” he said curtly. He was filled with a sudden need to see John again. “Come on, let's go. The Doctor will be meeting us soon.”

     Donna hesitated. "Actually, um, mind if we catch up with you later? I just wanted to grab a paper quick." Molly looked at Donna in surprise at her use of "we."

      Sherlock raised an eyebrow at Donna's rather obvious attempt to get Molly alone. He considered refusing. It was obvious that Donna was going to ask what had happened between her and the Doctor, and he knew Molly really didn't want to talk about. But after a moment, he gave a sharp nod. "Fine. Meet me where the Doctor dropped us off, and _don't_ be late." He turned and sauntered off, his coat swishing behind him.

     He wasn't the right person to get Molly Hooper to open up, but maybe Donna Noble was.

**SCENEBREAK**

     It really was over.

     The Doctor let out a sigh of relief. The Ood Brain had been freed, and the Ood were all released, able to live on their lives without humans enslaving them. All in all, not a bad day. He wasn't entirely sure it made up for letting the other Ood die, but for right now, it would have to do.

     The Ood stood before him, headed by Ood Sigma, the self-proclaimed leader of the Ood. The Doctor was confident that the clever, patient Ood would be able help his people recover from the trauma of their years of slavery. “The message has gone out,” he told the Ood “That song resonated across the galaxies, everyone heard it. Everyone knows. The rockets are bringing them back. The Ood are coming home.”

     The Ood blinked calmly back at him. Before, they had been placid cattle, robbed of self and emotion. Now, there was life in their eyes again, a quiet spark of an individual in each gaze. Ood Sigma held up his translation cube and replied, “We thank you, DoctorFriend. Friend of Oodkind. And what of you now, will you stay? There is room in the song for you.”

     The Doctor hesitated, shuffling uncomfortably. “Oh, I've... I've sort of got a song of my own, thanks. 'Sides, I promised to pick up some friends, and they'll kill me if I'm late. I'm pretty sure Sherlock's even clever enough to plan it, and Molly and Donna would pull it off. It'd be a mess, it really would. So yeah. Gotta run.”

     Ood Sigma tipped his head thoughtful, contemplating the Time Lord. “You are right. Your friends are waiting for you, away in Time and Space. One has been waiting longer than the others. She is waiting still, DoctorFriend.”

     The Time Lord narrowed his eyes. What did that mean? “Meaning?” he asked cautiously.

     “No one waits forever, DoctorFriend. All waiting must end, either way,” the Ood explained calmly. “Even those who don't know they are waiting. Your wait will end soon, I think, and hers.”

     Oh, he hated prophecies. They never explained themselves properly. You usually had to climb a mountain and swim a sea before finding out what they meant. Or maybe that was just Ancient Greece. Ah, good times. The Doctor settled for giving a vague nod. “Right. Ok.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, rising up to the balls of his feet. “Anyway, that's me off then.”

     The Ood all raised their arms heavenward as one, a beautiful, haunting song rising from them into the air, swirling around the Time Lord, filling his mind with peace. “Take this song with you,” Ood Sigma told him.

     The Doctor closed his eyes with a smile, letting the eerie melody etch itself in his hearts. It sounded like good wishes, and the trust of friendship. “I will,” he promised. “Always.” There was nothing quite like Oodsong, he decided. Kind of like how Harry felt about phoenix song in Harry Potter. Actual phoenix song sounded rubbish. They had singing contests that would go on for days. That was why they were the only inhabitants of their planet capable of hearing; all the others had evolved to become deaf so they wouldn't have to hear the phoenix racket.

     “And know this, DoctorFriend,” Ood Sigma told him as the song continued on. “You will never be forgotten. Our children will sing of the DoctorFriend, and our children's children. And the wind and the ice and the snow will carry your name forever.” The Doctor smiled and gave the Ood a nod, then turned and started off towards his TARDIS. It was time to get back to Sherlock, Molly and Donna.

     But Ood Sigma's message still itched at the back of his mind.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly wasn't an idiot. She knew Donna was trying to get her alone so she could ask about the Year. Well, not the Year exactly, Donna didn't know about the Year, but she knew something was up between her and the Doctor. And Molly very much did not want to talk about it.

     As they walked away from Sherlock, Donna smiled at Molly, commenting lightly, "Well, that's relief! Nice to be able to get away from that bossy stick insect every now and again." She seemed her usual, cheerful self, but Molly knew the questions were coming soon.

     She sighed. "Look, Donna-"

     Donna cut her off, saying brightly, "Come on then, I'll grab that paper, then let's sit a bit, yeah?"

     Molly shuffled uncomfortably. "You know, maybe I should go catch up with Sherlock..."

     Dona's expression softened. "Please stay," she said softly. "It'll be quick, I promise."

     The companion hesitated a few moments longer. Then she sighed. She couldn't say no to Donna. She didn't want to push her away like she pushed the Doctor away. Donna hadn't done anything wrong. "Fine," she said in a tone heavy with resignation. "But just for a bit."

     "Just for a bit," Donna promised. She hurried off to head a newspaper, leaving Molly to find someplace to sit. She wandered vaguely for a few moments, finally finding an empty bench. By the time she found it and sat, Donna was back, the day's newspaper in her hand. The ginger woman sat beside Molly, flipping through the pages of the paper. She sighed. "It's weird, you know. I read this paper months ago. It's already happened, but for them," she gestured to the crowd, "it's all new. They still have to live through it all. And all that stuff we've seen in the past and the future, they'll never get to see any of it. Just us."

     Molly stared out into the crowd, eyes narrowed. All those people, clueless about the horrors Molly had to remember. Most of them had died that first day, but the rest had suffered, just like she had, but they had the luxury of forgetting. "Maybe they're lucky," she said darkly. "The universe isn't always beautiful."

     Donna shrugged. "Maybe," she conceded. "But there's some great stuff out there. And we get to see it."

     Molly was surprised by the sincerity in Donna's tone. She turned and looked thoughtfully at the ginger woman. Donna was the only one on the TARDIS crew who hadn't been around for the Year. She had a certain innocence about her. Well, maybe innocence wasn't the right word. Donna wasn't totally blind to the bad things in the universe, she'd seen enough of them after all. But she still looked at the universe with hope, rather than cynicism. She used to be like that. What had happened?

     Donna seemed to realize what she was thinking. She gave Molly a warm, sincere smile. "I don't know what you've gone through, Molly. And you really don't have to tell me, I mean it. I understand. But you're not happy. And I want to know how to help you, because I don't now how much longer you can go on like this. So how can I help?"

     Donna 's question hit her hard. How indeed? Everyone was doing their own thing to try to help her, but Molly hardly knew herself. None of it was enough. All anything seemed to do was make things worse. The companion felt uncertainty like she hadn't felt in over a year. Memories of the Year flashed through her mind. She tried to fight back the sudden flashes of despair and terror, and the anger that had been building up ever since the Year's end. For a moment, she felt like that girl she had been at the start of her travels with the Doctor. That self-conscious, uncertain for who didn't believe in her own worth. She had hated being that girl, and she hated having to feel like that again.

     She crossed her arms over her chest, tucking her chin down onto her chest, her voice soft and uncertain as she answered honestly, "I don't know." All she knew was that the memories were getting worse, and she couldn't hold back the anger and fear anymore. Something was going to give soon. The trouble was, even if she left the TARDIS and the Doctor behind, she'd always be left with those memories. Nothing would ever be able to scrub out her experiences from the Year.

     The stress of dealing with Moriarty's network again, her anger at the Doctor and at herself, the left-over tenseness from their meeting with Warren, had all worn down her usual defenses. She felt vulnerable and tired, so tired. Tired of having to relive a year over and over in her head long after it was over and behind her. Tired of avoiding someone she had counted as a friend. Just... tired.

     "What... what it was, I thought I could just forget about it and move on. I thought, you know, once I was back on the TARDIS I'd feel safe again." She let out a harsh laugh. "I didn't think about the memories. Didn't realize how much they'd come back to haunt me. And it just makes me feel so weak, 'cause here I am, blubbering like an idiot over something that happened months ago. I've seen bad stuff on the TARDIS before. Frank's death, Peter Streete, the Face of Boe, all those people on the _S. S. Pentallian_. It's not like I'd never seen anyone die before, or cruelty. And I'm not a weak person, at least not anymore. I shouldn't be breaking down like this. I don't want to be weak again.” She hated the tremor that had entered her voice.

     Donna narrowed her eyes. “Molly Hooper, you're not weak,” she assured her firmly. “Got it?” When she saw that Molly was too emotional to answer, her expression softened. "Oh, come here." She pulled Molly into a tight hug, arms wrapping around her shoulders, encircling her in a warm embrace. Molly stiffened in surprise for a moment, then melted into the embrace. She let go of her defenses, the steely mask dropping as she just let go. She didn't know she was crying until she felt the wetness on her cheeks. The memories kept coming, but for once, she didn't fight them. She just let them play like a movie in her head. Donna didn't say anything. She just offered wordless comfort, letting the other woman let go for a moment.

     After what felt like ages, Molly finally pulled back, wiping hastily at her face. "Ugh, sorry about that," she apologized. The mask was back up, but not all the way. She smiled at Donna as sincerely as she could manage and told her, "But that helped. Really."

     "No problem," Donna assured her.

     Molly got up, brushing off her leather jacket. "Right, well, we better get back to Sherlock then."

     As the companion started off, Donna called after her, "Wait." Molly turned back to look at her. "I know you don't want to talk to me about it. But whatever it is... you should talk to _someone_."

     Molly hesitated. Sherlock wasn't really the bear-your-soul to type of person, and she really didn't want to tell Donna, because that would require explaining everything, which would be worse than discussing it with someone who at least knew about the Year. Besides, she didn't want to complicate her friendship with Donna by throwing in the story of the Year. Really, there was really only one person to talk to about it. There always had been. And Molly didn't want to even think about that. But for Donna's sake, she gave the ginger woman a forced smile and told her, “I'll think about it.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly, Donna, and Sherlock had regrouped by the street corner where the Doctor had dropped them off. Donna was arguing with Sherlock about something or other, and Molly had wandered a few paces away to get away from the argument. She was staring boredly out into the crowd, waiting for the familiar _vworp, vworp_ of the TARDIS. She wasn't looking forward to seeing the Doctor again, but it was unavoidable.

     “Hello dear.”

     She froze. _Nonononono..._ On top of everything else that she'd been through today, this was the absolute _last_ thing she needed. The feeling of a Semtex vest pressing against her chest flashed in her mind, along with the terror of that night. Her fingers curled into tight fists as she turned to face the only man she hated as much as the Master. “Moriarty,” she spat out.

     The Irish man still wore that cruel half-grin she remembered from the night by the pool. “Didn't expect to see you around these parts, miss Molly Hooper. Thought you'd be off in that tin box of yours with stuffy in the coat. All those stars and moons to see.”

     Molly hated and fear the man, but the primary emotion she was feeling was a fiery, burning anger. It took everything she had not to launch herself at the man and show him what the Year had taught her about fighting. “What about you, Jimmy boy?” she snarled. “If you know so much about aliens, why are you still bothering yourself with Earth?”

     “Oh, Molly, Molly, Molly,” the man chided, putting a hand over his face. “I knew the Time Lord picked the wrong pet, but you really don't see, do you? With all your little planets and aliens and things, you just don't _see_ what potential Earth has! All these stupid little blundering people, you have no idea how many ways you can twist and turn them. Bend them until they break. It's not even that hard. They are just so ready to go at each other's throats. You just point them in the right direction, then sit back and watch the bloodbath. Now tell me, why would I ever want to leave a place like that?”

     Molly just shook her head. “You're sick,” she hissed. “Why are you even here? Trying to kill us again?”

     Moriarty rolled his eyes. “See, this is why you're the tag-along and not the big player,” he groaned. “You just don't get the big picture. Now _why_ would I waste my time trying to kill little ol' you? There's no point.”

     “You don't need a point,” Molly snapped. “You're a monster, you kill because you like it.”

     The remorseless man gave an exaggerated grin. “There, now you're starting to get it! Now be a dear and run off to grab Sherlock. Bigger fish to fry and all that.”

     Molly was about to tell Jim right where he could shove it, but before she could, his gaze slid past her to Sherlock and Donna. “Ooo, there's the big boy. And look, he's got another pet. Though this one doesn't seem as friendly.” He swept past Molly, ignoring her completely, and strode up to Sherlock and Donna, Molly carefully following.

     The two were still locked in their argument, but the instant Sherlock saw Moriarty, he stopped dead. His eyes widened, hate and anger and fear flashing briefly there before the usual cold indifference returned. His expression became carefully composed as he evaluated the man who would one day take everything away from him. “Fancy seeing you here,” he said coolly.

     Moriarty's grin widened disturbingly, his dark eyes flashing with cruel glee. “Oh Sherlock, you know me. I can't resist a good old stand-off.”

     Donna looked curiously at the man. “So who're you then?” she asked roughly. She could clearly tell something was up, but she had no way of knowing that the man in the suit in front of her was the most dangerous man she had ever met.

     Molly looked carefully from Sherlock to Moriarty, trying to gauge how likely the conversation was to turn to violence. Her own anger was hard enough to reign in without worrying about Sherlock as well. “James Moriarty,” she informed her friend quietly. The ginger's eyes widened in surprise, and a tinge of anger. Molly wondered how much Donna knew about what Moriarty had done to Sherlock, and to her.

     Moriarty stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking casually at the spot where the TARDIS was due to appear. “Been hearing word of a big blue box popping up at this spot every few years. Seems I underestimated the Time Killjoy. Didn't think you'd be palling up with him, but times change I suppose. Even spotted you a few times, talking to some of my boys. All that running about, throwing wrenches in the works? Sherlock dear, that's practically flirting. I couldn't resist popping down for a little chat.”

     “How thoughtful of you,” Sherlock commented drily. By the tense posture and barely controlled expression, he really wasn't in the mood to play games.

     Moriarty's expression suddenly became dangerously still. He slowly approached Sherlock, getting right up into his face. “I thought I warned you to back off, dearie. I made myself pretty clear.”

     Sherlock stared right down at him, unblinking, unyielding. “And I told you I'd catch you later.”

     The monster's smirk was back, full of cruel smugness. “Don't think I can't see what you're doing. I will stop you, you know.”

     “You can't,” Sherlock replied, wearing a cruel grin of his own. “It's too late now.”

     Before Moriarty could respond, a familiar _vworp, vworp_ rang from the usual spot, the blue box phasing in and out of sight. Molly instinctively began backing towards the box, Donna and Sherlock following her example. She kept her back to the box and her sights on Moriarty, who looked amused at their fear of him. “Sorry, but we're going to have to cut this talk short,” Molly informed him coldly. “Our ride's here.”

     Moriarty grinned. “Fair enough.” The grin faded, his expression becoming eerily serious. “Until the next time, Sherlock Holmes.”

     Sherlock's reply was cut off as the TARDIS door swung open, the Doctor poking his head out. “All ready to go then?” The Time Lord froze as he noticed James Moriarty. Cold, burning fury blazed in his eyes for a moment. Molly remembered how Moriarty had threatened all of his companions at once. That was the angriest she had ever seen the Doctor, and now here Moriarty was, facing him unarmed. It was a miracle the man was still standing.

     Moriarty grinned widely at the sight of the Time Lord. “You've got some interesting friends here, Doc-tor.” He drew the word out, playing with it, all the while carefully watching the Time Lord. He probably knew the weight of the threat against him. Then again, Molly recalled, he didn't seem to value his life all that much. He'd been willing to play hard and fast enough with it last time.

     The Doctor hesitated. Molly could tell that he was dying to make the man pay for what he'd done, timelines be damned. A large part of her was more than willing to let him. She had her own scores to settle with James Moriarty.

     “Leave him, Doctor.” She looked in surprise to see Sherlock glaring coldly at Moriarty. “It's done. Let's go.”

     The Time Lord hesitated a moment longer, then nodded. He moved to let Donna and Sherlock into the TARDIS. As Molly passed him, she heard him tell Moriarty sharply, “You're lucky that I can't alter future timelines. Your fate is much kinder than any I would've given you.” With that, he turned and slammed the TARDIS door behind him, making his way stiffly up to the console.

     The Doctor leaned against the console for a moment before letting out a long, slow breath. He turned back to face his companions, his usual, chipper self again. “Well! Where to then?”

     “221B, August 10th,” Sherlock said immediately. “We need to make sure everything plays out the way it's supposed to. Then we can contact Lestrade, tell him it's alright to release the information I gave him. Only then can I be sure that it's safe to contact everyone who was threatened.” By that, Molly knew he was referring solely to John, though she didn't doubt he cared about Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade as well.

     The Doctor nodded. “221B it is then.” He started to begin the fligth sequence, but after a moment's consideration, he turned to Sherlock with a warm grin. “Congratulations, Sherlock.” The detective seemed surprised by the gesture, but returned it with a slight nod. Molly frowned. She hadn't really thought about what ending Moriarty's network would mean. Sherlock was actually leaving the TARDIS at long last. What would it be like without him there? He was the only one other than the Doctor who knew anything about the Year, and he served as a pretty good buffer between her and the people who wanted to know too much. How would she deal with the Doctor when Sherlock was gone?

     The TARDIS shook herself into a landing, settling into position with her usual grace. For once, Sherlock was the first to the door. Probably anxious to get back home. He threw open the TARDIS door...

     … revealing a very stunned John Watson, staring right at Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, two right in a row. I'm on a roll!
> 
> Anyway, to business. I think I've pretty much made it clear by this point that Molly has PTSD. It's been around since she returned from the Year, but it's started surfacing more recently, getting worse and worse, culminating in this feeling of rage and helplessness.
> 
> As for the Ood's message, I decided now was the time for more foreshadowing. Who are the Ood referring to? One should be slightly more obvious than the other, hopefully.
> 
> Grr, James Moriarty, you're harder to write than I remembered! I hope I wrote him well. He and Sherlock are two different types of painful to write, but both are painful in their own ways. I meant for their confrontation to be clever and thought-out and deep, but I got really tired at the end. :P Sorry. Hope what I came up with is enough.
> 
> And ooo, cliff hanger. ^^ This shall lead directly into the next episode. It isn't a two-parter though. This is a separate plotline, though it is affected by the actions in this episode. The next two episodes will make up a two-parter, however, to replace The Sontaran Stratagem. Hopefully I'll post more soon.


	26. The Final Game: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock tries to explain himself to John.

     Detective Inspector Lestrade was not having a particularly good day.

     He'd gotten _another_ dressing-down from the chief inspector over some pretty trivial matter. He didn't seem to trust Lestrade with anything anymore, not after the whole Sherlock fiasco. Anderson had come up him ranting about time travel and Sherlock being alive, with Lestrade desperately trying to shush him. That hadn't been the first time Anderson had pulled a stunt like that, and it was starting to draw attention. Lestrade had enough on his plate without worrying about Anderson stumbling onto the truth about time travel.

     During his lunch break, the detective inspector had met with John at 221B, saying he needed some of Sherlock's old case files. He needed a couple of them for ongoing cases, and more importantly, he wanted John to feel useful. Sherlock's former flatmate had spent the last three months since Sherlock's "death" moping around. He'd gone to his therapist, he got a new apartment, he still had his job, but other than that, he wasn't... really enjoying anything. He was just going through the motions. Sherlock's death had hit him hard. He was looking a little haggard, his clothes rumpled and his face right with sadness.

     The worst part was, Lestrade knew the truth. Sherlock was alive, off in the TARDIS with Molly and that Doctor of hers, working hard to come home. He knew, and he couldn't tell John. It still wasn't safe for him to know, he knew that, and he had promised Sherlock not to breath a word. But it was still hard to have to look the miserable man in the eyes and lie when he could cheer him up so easily.

     221B was still under heavy construction. Lestrade'd had a time of it explaining the explosion caused by the Master, especially since he couldn't tell anyone about either the Master or anyone who'd been there during the explosion. Eventually, it'd been waved off as one of Sherlock's old enemies getting some posthumous revenge. Lestrade could see the area where the bomb had exploded, where the walls and ceiling were being rebuilt. The furniture and the TV were all new, although to his surprise, it all looked exactly like what had been there before. He supposed John had wanted to keep the flat looking just like it had when Sherlock was alive.

     He was seated on the couch when John came over, a few scorched folders in hand. "Here," he said as he handed them to the detective inspector. "This is everything I could find that was still legible. The, uh, bomb destroyed the rest."

     Lestrade nodded, getting to his feet. "Thanks mate." He started to say something else, but before he could, a familiar sound started echoing through the flat. _Vworp, vworp._ He froze. The only time he'd ever heard that sound had been when he'd watched Molly, Sherlock, and the Doctor fade away in their big blue box.

     Sherlock. Sherlock would be in there. And John was in the room. He'd see him, and it wasn't safe yet.

     Lestrade let out a groan. _Ah Christ._

     "Hey, John, um, let's move out into the kitchen, yeah?" He yanked the surprised man's arm, trying to drag him.

     He tried to herd the doctor out of the room, but now the TARDIS was phasing in and out of view, and it had caught John's attention. "What in the name of-?" His eyes widened as he recognized the blue box. Lestrade knew he'd never seen it himself, but Molly and Sherlock had surely told him what it looked like. John looked uncertainly at Lestrade. "Um, you might want to step out..."

     Lestrade could've laughed. John didn't know he knew about the TARDIS; he was worried about sparing Lestrade from too much weirdness. He had no idea. "You know what, you're right, lets move out of the room-"

     It was too late. The TARDIS had fully formed, and before Lestrade could call out a warning, Sherlock had swung the door open right in front of John.

     John's eyes widened in shock. "Sh-Sherlock?" he choked out.

     Lestrade groaned as he slumped back down onto the couch. He put a hand over his face, suddenly feeling the strong need for a drink.

     This was _definitely_ not a good day.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Everyone froze when John uttered Sherlock's name. Molly looked uneasily at Sherlock, then at the Doctor. Had they landed in the right time? Was it too early? Was John's life still in danger, or was this just going to be awkward rather than dangerous. She wasn't sure, but either way, it wasn't going to be fun.

     Sherlock seemed to have frozen entirely. He was staring at John as though he was starved for the sight of him. Fear, relief, and uncertainty all crossed over his face at once. He took a few shaky steps out of the TARDIS towards his flatmate. "John," he breathed.

     John stared at his best friend with shock, but also with uncertainty, as if he expected Sherlock to be an image that would flicker out and fade at any instant. After several moments, he reached out with a shaky hand and laid it on Sherlock's shoulder. His eyes widened in shock when his fingers touched solid shoulder. He looked at the shoulder, then Sherlock's face. "You're actually real? You're really here?"

     Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself, swallowing hard. Molly felt a pang of sympathy for the detective. He was obviously thinking about the Year, seeing John's bloody, pale, lifeless corpse. He finally managed a hoarse, "Yeah."

     John slowly drew his hand back. His expression hardened, his finger curled, and before Molly could call out a warning, there was a loud _crack_ as John's fist connected soundly with Sherlock's jaw.

     The detective stumbled back against the side of the TARDIS, hand going automatically up to his jaw. He looked at John in shock. "Wha-?"

     "YOU BLOODY BASTARD!" Molly flinched from the pure fury in John's voice. Desperate for a escape, she poked her head out of the TARDIS and scanned the room. She finally noticed a familiar face seated on the couch, looking decidedly done with the whole situation. She smiled for the first time in what felt like ages. "Greg!"

     The detective inspector looked up in surprise. "Hey, good to see you again Molly," he said cheerfully. He waved the companion over, and she hurried gratefully to the couch, sitting beside him. Unlike the Doctor, and even Sherlock to a certain degree, she felt no awkwardness around Greg when it came to the Year. The chance to build a real friendship with him, with the hint of something more, had been one of the only good things about the Year. She leaned easily against his shoulder, his arm reaching out around her shoulders. They had lived in pretty close quarters at times, so they weren't really opposed to casual cuddling.

     John was still ranting at Sherlock. “Three months, Sherlock! Three _fucking_ months. In all that time, you couldn't have picked up the phone _once_ and mentioned that you weren't dead!” While John went on, the Doctor had snuck out of the TARDIS to stand awkwardly by the door of the flat, while Donna had come out to stand beside Sherlock, having closed the TARDIS door behind her. John didn't even look at her as he continued, “I saw you fall off a _fucking_ building, Sherlock. What was all that about?! Some stupid publicity stunt, something for a case?” He turned away, laughing harshly. “You know what? I always stood up for you Sherlock, but you really are just a machine, aren't you? You don't care about hurting anyone else, because you're the great Sherlock Holmes, and the only thing that matters is the case.”

     “That's not true,” Donna interrupted softly. She was standing beside Sherlock, supporting him, but not antagonizing John. Her expression was soft with sympathy as she regarded Sherlock's flatmate. Molly had noticed before how sensitive Donna tended to be to other people's emotions. She didn't know how much Donna knew about the whole Sherlock faking his death situation, but she clearly understood how much John had suffered. “Sherlock cares about you. He would've come back if he could.”

     “I'm sorry, who are you?” John asked, not unkindly. “You know what, nevermind.” He whirled around to face Molly and Greg, who obviously didn't looked surprised enough by the big blue box for his liking. “You two, did you both know about this? And you?” he added, turning to the Doctor. The doctor let out a humorless laugh. “Am I the only who wasn't in the loop on this?”

     “We didn't exactly tell Greg, he just sort of stumbled onto the truth,” Molly explained. “Anyway, we made him promise not to tell you.”

     “Why?” John asked sharply.

     “Because they would've killed you if you knew I was alive.” Sherlock seemed to have found his voice at last. His eyes kept darting across John's face, imploring him to listen, to understand. “Moriarty laid a trap. If I didn't jump off that building, he was going to kill you, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade. He had a gun trained on you, and the only way to stop them was to jump. I didn't have a choice.”

     John narrowed his eyes. “That's all well and good, Sherlock. But after that. You couldn't have come up to me after? You really had to make me stand there and watch while you flung yourself off a bloody roof? You selfish bastard.” He was still angry, clearly, but his initial rage was slowly draining out of him. The tension slowly leaked from his posture, leaving him standing awkwardly, looking between Sherlock and the TARDIS, as if not sure which to be mad at.

     “I know you're mad at him,” Lestrade said quietly from his spot on the couch. “I was too when I found out, and I never lived with him.”

     “But please, just listen what he has to say,” the Doctor continued from the door frame. “I promise you, he really didn't have a choice.”

     John hesitated. Before he could say anything, Molly interrupted by saying, “Look, this is all well and good, but wasn't the whole reason we couldn't talk to John yet because we hadn't made sure Moriarty was totally taken care of?” She turned to Sherlock as she asked, “Are we safe here right now?”

     Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “We should be. The people who caused an immediate threat should all be imprisoned at the moment, or at least awaiting trial. But we still need to be careful.” He crossed over to the area where the window had been, which was covered by plastic sheeting. As the detective looked cautiously out onto the street, Molly leaned back against the couch, looking anxiously off to the side, away from the drama in front of her. As she did, she noticed a strange, metal device on the wall above the couch, painted the same color as the wallpaper so as to blend in. She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out what it was.

     Her eyes widened in understanding as it began beeping. “Everyone, move it!” She started to get up from the couch, Lestrade following her lead. Before anyone else could move, there was a bright flash of light, and a blast of energy slammed into Molly's head. She suddenly felt pressure in her head, and blackness swarmed over her vision as she passed out.

     The last thing she felt before blacking out entirely was hands grabbing her roughly and hauling her over someone's shoulder, carrying her away.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Time Lord let out a groan as he came to. He put a hand to his throbbing temple, trying to block out the pain pounding against his skull. Someone else groaned across the room, but he wasn't quite up to investigating quite yet.

     Thanks to his superior Time Lord biology, it only took a minute for the pain to fade and to get his senses back. The Doctor opened his eyes, blinking a couple times until his vision became less bleary.

     His hearts froze as he took in the sight of the flat. It didn't look any more damaged than it had already been, but the lights had been blown out, making the sunlight filtering in from the plastic-covered window the only light source.

     But what had him truly worried was the distinct lack of people. The flat had been filled with six people before he'd blacked out, including himself. But now, there was only one huddled shape on the floor right next to the TARDIS, which was thankfully still there. Everyone else had vanished. His hearts clenched painfully. His companions were gone, again.

     The Time Lord forced himself to get shakily to his feet, wincing slightly at the soreness in his limbs from falling to the ground. He made his way over to the figure, recognizing it as Sherlock as he got closer. “Sherlock, you alright?” he asked cautiously. The detective let out a groan in response.

     The Doctor sighed. It probably wasn't a good idea to move Sherlock while it was unclear how injured he was, but there was no way of knowing whether another blast wave was coming. They had to get into the TARDIS where it'd be safe. “Alright, up you get.” The Time Lord wrapped his arms around Sherlock's torso, lifting the semi-conscious detective awkwardly to his feet.

     He started to drag him towards the TARDIS, but Sherlock managed to wake up enough to push the Time Lord away. “Get off,” he growled groggily, stumbling awkwardly away from him. The detective leaned his shoulder against the side of the TARDIS, a hand reaching up to rub the back of his head. “How'd you get up before me?” he asked somewhat irritably.

     “Superior Time Lord biology,” the Doctor explained, not without a hint of smugness. “Nevermind that. Just keep your eyes closed, head level, breath in through your nose, out through your mouth.”

     Sherlock did as the Doctor ordered, keeping his head up as he took in slow, measured breaths. After several moments, he opened his eyes again, pushing off the TARDIS to stand on his own. “Thanks,” he said stiffly.

     The Doctor nodded. “No problem. Knock-out blast wave. Nasty feeling.”

     The detective looked up with interest. “You know what that was?”

     “Incapacitating energy blast wave,” the Doctor explained. His brow furrowed worriedly. “Trouble is, that's alien technology. Why's it being used here?”

     Sherlock didn't answer. His sharp gaze was flitting over the flat, taking in every detail and filing them away in his mind. After a few moments, he strode up to the couch, stepping carelessly on the armrest in order to reach for something on the wall. He returned to the Doctor with it held out in his palm.

     The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and gave it a quick scan. “Disabled,” he realized with relief.

     Sherlock clenched his jaw, growling, “I should've seen it earlier.” His gaze swept around the flat again, searching for anything he missed. “I was too distracted. I always said, sentiment, it gets in the way.”

     The Doctor knew that Sherlock was just frustrated because John was missing, so soon after getting him back. He too was worried for his companions. He was pretty sure Donna would be okay. Scared, yes, but she was tough. She could hold her own. It was Molly he was worried about. She was tough too, and undeniably brave, but ever since the Year her behavior had been decidedly erratic. He wasn't sure how she'd react to being kidnapped and kept captive.

     Without warning, the TV switched on, the picture grainy and the speakers emitting a loud screeching. The Doctor and Sherlock exchanged a wary glance, then returned their attention to the screen. After a few moments, the picture cleared slightly, but was still grainy, and flashing and flickering erratically. The two geniuses flinched back in shock at the sight of the face flickering in and out of focus, grinning maniacally.

     “ _Hello boys,_ ” James Moriarty said, his grin full of cruel glee.

     Sherlock's expression was one of complete shock. His face, usually so composed, was completely vulnerable. He took a shaky step forward, starting at Moriarty like a scared, lost child. The Doctor could only guess at his thoughts, whether he was doubting the possibility of the evidence of his eyes, or whether he was fearful for John.

     The Doctor's own response was quite different. The moment he saw Moriarty's face, his blood was boiling, turning to fire in his veins. His expression turned stormy, the hate and rage burning underneath. That man. That little, insignificant man, one stupid little ape on a stupid little planet, who thought he could threaten the people the Doctor cared most about, over and over again, and get away with it. The first time, he'd let him go so he could focus on helping Molly. The second, Sherlock got to him first, and he couldn't mess with that established event. No more. This man had gone too far and taken too much to ever beg the Time Lord's forgiveness.

     Moriarty's face on the screen kept zooming in and out and skipping around random parts of the screen in sharp, quick transitions, the screen glitching in random patches. It just added to the chaotic feeling of James Moriarty. The man in question tipped his head, grinning with an eerie smugness. “ _Hello_ ooo _there alien boy. Long time, no see._ ” He straightened up, voice suddenly more collected. “ _Well, for me anyway. Of course you, you just popped off in your little box, so it's only been a few seconds in Doc-tah time._ ”

     “It can't be,” Sherlock breathed. “It can't. He's _dead_.”

     Moriarty's expression became smug again, amused. “ _By this point, Sherly boy's probably whining this being impossible, about me being dead, and probably being all-around dull._ ” He smirked. “ _But don't worry, I'm long gone. Or at least, I assume I am. After your little trip, it wasn't hard to guess._ ”

     The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver, scanning over the TV. “It's pre-recorded,” he confirmed. “It's not a live feed.”

     The psychopath looked off the center of the camera, expression thoughtful. “ _You know, in the end, it was always going to come to that, wasn't it? I was never really long for this world. Such a tedious thing, existence. Never saw the point in a long-lived life. And if things go down the way I've been planning, well then, my death means that I won._ ” Sherlock's expression hardened at that, his anger finally catching up with him.

     “ _Now,_ ” he said in a frank tone, “ _To business. The two of you are probably wondering where are your little friends are. You always were so simple-minded when it came to those brainless little pets who followed you around._ ” He sighed, passing a hand over his face. “ _You see, I was going to leave it alone, Sherlock, I really was. But then I started thinking... what were you doing with that nosy alien in the box? Unraveling my network, I already knew that. Really, Sherlock, you're a bit obvious. But then I thought... Sherlock's undoing all my hard work. He's stealing my win. And well, I can't have that, now can I?_ ”

     His grin widened, his face zapping closer to the camera, zooming in on that horrid grin. “ _So here it is. My last victory. The final game._ ” A countdown appeared on the top left corner of the screen that read, “24:00.” Moriarty continued, “ _Find your companions within 24 hours, or my men will kill them. And don't try getting extra time by using that box of yours, Doctor. You noticed my little trick with the knock-out pulse? I have access to alien technology. After Canary Wharf, Torchwood's goodies were up for grab._ Soooo _many fun toys to be found. I can track your TARDIS. If you try to take off, my men will know, and they'll kill your companions immediately._ ” He smirked. “You're fast, Doctor. But are you faster than a bullet? And remember, they might not all be in the same place. Oh, also, be quick about finding them. I can't account for any pain they go through. The long er you wait, the worse it'll be.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “ _Oh, all right, you can travel through space, but not time. No time jumping, time boy. We'll be able to know. We're watching you two, so play nice._ ”

     Moriarty smirked as he added, " _And Doctor? You really need to find smarter companions. I mean, using her mother's maiden name to get into a building? Not very smart at all. Donna Noble's family might just be getting a little visit._ " The Doctor felt a pang of fear in his hearts.

     The counter started counting down. “ _Happy hunting,_ ” Moriarty said with a final grin. Then the screen shorted out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's nice to be posting chapters so quickly again. It's a nice feeling. ^^
> 
> Anyway, onto the Final Game, the last hurrah of the deceased James Moriarty. Yes, I'm keeping him dead. I considered bringing him back, but in the end, I figured let him rot. We've pretty much had it confirmed that he truly is dead, and while I could bring him back with alien tech, I figured it makes more sense to keep him dead. Let him keep his victory. Besides, if he stayed alive, I don't think I could've kept the Doctor from doing something truly Time Lord Victorious to him as punishment.
> 
> I'll post more soon, hopefully. Like I said, this is going to be a two-parter.
> 
> By the way, if you want hints as to who was taken with whom, take a look at who was standing where in the room and who was close to who.


	27. The Final Game: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Sherlock hurry to rescue Donna's family.

For a few moments, Sherlock and the Doctor could only stare at the screen where Moriarty had been moments ago. Then, the Doctor forced himself into action. He started toward the TARDIS, telling Sherlock, "We need to go, now."

Sherlock didn't appear to be listening. He was looking out the window, letting out a frustrated growl. "We've been unconcious for a few hours. They could be anywhere by now!"

"Sherlock, we've got to move!" the Doctor ordered. "Donna's family is in danger, we need to get to them now."

The detective glared back irritably at the Time Lord. "It can wait," he snapped.

The Time Lord felt a rush of anger. "People's lives are at stake, Sherlock. Not just John's. That can't wait."

"There's more to be figured out here," Sherlock argued. "We need to be careful about this."

"We can come back here later," the Time Lord snapped. "The evidence isn't going anywhere. Donna's family might die if we don't get there now! We're _leaving_." The order was clear in his tone. His companions were in danger, and he didn't have time to argue with a stubborn, less-than-compassionate consulting detective. This was too urgent.

The detective glared at him, but for once, he didn't argue further. Instead, he replied, "We need to pick up Mrs. Hudson as well."

The Doctor vaguely remembered the older woman from the Christmas party almost two years ago. "What, the landlady?" he asked.

"She was the only one on Moriarty's hit list who hasn't already been kidnapped," Sherlock explained quickly. "She'll be on his list this time."

The Doctor nodded. "Alright. Where do you think she is?"

"It's lunchtime, she usually goes to a small cafe around the street. Come on." Sherlock was out the door before he'd finished speaking, leaving the Time Lord to catch up.

**SCENEBREAK**

"It's been how many months, and not a peep from her. No, just waltzes off out of nowhere, makes me go searching for the keys, in a _bin_ of all things! Imagine! Just took off out of the blue. We don't know if she's got a job, an appartment, or whether she's wandering about on the street, do we?"

Wilfred Mott did his best to drown out his daughter's complaining tone. While Sylvia was sitting on the couch, he was standing by the window, staring out into the streets of London in autunm. Autunm had always been one of his favorite times of year. The leaves changing color, the feeling of something new in the air. The season of change. Somehow, he'd never really been afraid of change. There was always something exciting to be found in the new.

He knew, far better than Sylvia, where his granddaughter was. The last time he'd seen Donna was when she was off in that wonderful blue box, flying in the sky with the stars and the moons, with that wonderful man she'd been talking about. The blue box had come at last to take her out to the stars. He couldn't have ever been more thrilled than he was that night.

But as excited as Wilf was for Donna, he was also beginning to worry. Slyvia was right, she had been gone for months now without a word from her. He couldn't help but wonder where she was and what she was up to. Was she off on some different planet surrounded by aliens? Was she thinking about her old grandad back on Earth, or was her new life so exciting that she didn't have time to come back home? Whatever it was, he hoped she called soon. He missed his Donna.

As he looked out the window, Wilf noticed a black van pull up on the street across from the house. He watched uncertainly as two men got out of the car and started heading towards his house. They weren't expecting any company that he knew of, and he didn't like the look of those two men. Shifty-looking, they were.

He froze when he saw the faint outline of a gun in one of their hands.

**SCENEBREAK**

The Doctor and Sherlock bolted down the street, both of their coats billowing out behind them. They were drawing a few stares, but discretion was no longer a luxury they could afford. The famous Sherlock Holmes was alive, and they didn't have time to try to hide that.

"Over there!"

Sherlock led the Doctor to a small cafe sandwhiched between a chinese restaraunt and a bakery. They burst through the doors, ignoring the surprised looks of the people behind the counter. The Doctor glanced anxiously behind them as Sherlock searched through the booths for his landlady. Judging by the clatter of a glass and the shocked squeak of "Sherlock!", he'd found her.

"Mrs. Hudson, we have to go now." The Doctor held back a groan at Sherlock's completely blunt greeting to the woman who'd thought he was dead. He hurried over to see the woman from the Christmas party staring at Sherlock in utter shock, gaping at him while her face grew pale as a sheet.

"Nice work," he commented drily to the detective.

"You're the one who said we were in a hurry," Sherlock snarked back. He turned to Mrs. Hudson, wrapping his hands around one of hers, his voice becoming softer as he said, "Mrs. Hudson, I don't have time to explain right now, but you are in danger. You have to come with us."

Mrs. Hudson looked uncertainly at the detective she had known, one hand reaching out to touch Sherlock's face, to see if he was real. "You're alive?"

"Mrs. Hudson, please," the Doctor begged, "You have to come with us. It's not safe here." The landlady hesitated a moment longer, then nodded. She allowed the Doctor and Sherlock to hurry her out of the cafe and into the street. They made it to the TARDIS, and with a little persuasion, were able to convince Mrs. Hudson to go inside.

The Doctor didn't bother to listen to Mrs. Hudson's shocked reaction to the interior of the TARDIS, or Sherlock's slightly condescending reply. He headed right for the console, plugging in flight coordinates as fast as he possibly could. Donna had given him the coordinates for her family's house before, he knew where they needed to go.

He could only hope he wasn't too late.

**SCENEBREAK**

Wilf took an involuntary step back from the window. He didn't know why those men were there or what they wanted, but he knew a threat when he saw one. These men were here to shoot, possibly to kill.

"Dad? What're looking at out there? You're always moping around by the window, but all the staring in the world's not gonna bring Donna back." Sylvia came up to the window behind her father, looking curiously at what was outside. When she noticed the men approaching, her eyes narrowed. "Who's that then? What, d'you invite someone over without telling me?"

Wilf turned quickly to his daughter. "Slyvia, sweetheart, we need to leave." The old man desperately sorted through his mind, trying to think of a way they could slip away unnoticed. He pushed past his surprised daughter to check the back door by the kitchen. A wave of relief washed over him when he saw it was clear.

"What're you talking about, leaving?" Slyvia demanded, following him out into the kitchen. "I don't know what you're even talking about." Wilf ignored her. There wasn't enough time for a clean getaway. Wilf would have to distract them while Sylvia got away.

Not responding to his daughter, Wilf hurried down the hall to his room. He reached under the bed and pulled out the box where he knew his old service pistol was stored. He pulled it out with a shaking hand, unwrapping the cloth that covered it. Sylvia, who had followed him, let out a squeak of surprise at the sight. "Dear god, Dad, what are you doing??"

"Darling, we're not safe here!" Wilf told his daughter. He hurried back into the kitchen, Sylvia following. Before he could go for the door, he heard the sound of a handle being jiggled at the front door. Wilf paled. They were picking the lock.

Sylvia finally seemed to realize something was wrong. She looked at the front door in alarm, asking, "What's going on?"

"Sylvia, listen to me," Wilf said firmly. His daughter looked at him, finally seeming ready to listen. "Go out the back and run. Find somewhere safe."

"What about you, Dad?"

"I'll be right behind you, just go!" After hesitating for a moment, Sylvia did as he said, hurrying out the back door. Wilf stood awkwardly in the kitchen, gripping the service pistol tightly in his hand, waiting for the men to break in.

The front door swung open, and three men in dark clothing burst in, guns up. Wilf pulled his gun up, pointing it awkwardly at the men in front of him. "N-now don't come any closer. Just stay back, alright?"

The men paused. Wilf could see the professionalism in their posture, the coldness in their eyes. He had no doubt that they would kill him without a second thought.

One of them spoke in a thick Russian accent. "Put down the gun old man. You can't shoot faster than us. You will lose."

Wilf hesitated. He could shoot one of them, then there would only be two after his Sylvia. He was an old man, it wouldn't be such a loss if they killed him. But he couldn't. He never could. And he wasn't ashamed of that. So instead, he hesitated as long as he dared, drawing it out as long as he could before getting shot. He slowly backed up, in small, minute steps, until his back was toward the open door. Then he shrugged. "Didn't think I could." Then he bolted, ducking as they opened fire behind him.

As he ran out the door, he saw Sylvia a few yards in front of him. He was about to call out a warning for her to go faster when a shape appeared in the corner of his vision. He whirled around to see a familiar blue box fading in and out of sight up on the hill where he'd look at the stars. He felt a thrill of hope. Donna. They'd be safe with Donna.

"Sylvia!" he called out. "The hill! Go up the hill!" His daughter changed course, and the two of them ran, ran as fast as they could, towards that wonderful box of the Doctor's. Wilf couldn't help the breathless laugh that escaped him. Strange men were trying to kill him and his daughter, but suddenly he didn't care. He was going to see Donna again, and see the box, and those aliens of hers, the man and the woman.

By the time they reached the hill, the box was fully formed, and the alien man had swung open the door and was waiting for them. "Come on, in, in!" he urged, eyes dark with fear.

"What, in that thing?" Sylvia asked with disgust. "I'm not crawling in that thing, mate!"

"Oh, come on." Wilf pulled his protesting daughter past the alien and into the box. As he stepped inside, he couldn't hold back a gasp of awe. The interior was incredible. So much bigger and grander than the outside. The wonders of alien minds.

The alien pulled the door shut after them, dashing over to the console. Wilf hadn't noticed before the two other people seated near the console, a skinny young man, and an older woman.

Wilf suddenly heard a whimper of fear beside him. He looked over to see Sylvia staring at the inside of the box with wide, scared eyes, for once stunned completely into silence. He clasped her hand tightly, telling her, "There there, my dear. It's alright. It's an alien ship, Sylvia. A real, live alien ship! And that man there, he's an alien!"

The alien in question didn't reply. He was too focused on the console, sending the ship into flight. The ship started to shake wildly. Sylvia managed to catch him before he fell, the two clinging together while the ship shuddered its way through flight. Only when the ship had landed did the alien address them. "I'm sorry about that, I'm really sorry. But you two were in danger and I had to get you out of there quickly."

Wilf laughed warmly. "It's quite all right, sir." He crossed over to the alien, holding out his hand, which the alien took. He shook the alien's hand warmly, saying, "Wilfred Mott sir, a pleasure to properly meet you." A thought suddenly came to him. "Wait a minute, you're him. The man from Christmas!"

The alien's eyes lit up with recognition. "You're the man from the newspaper stand!" He grinned, suddenly full of cheer. "Nice to meet you Wilfred. I'm the Doctor." He nodded towards the other two as he added, "That's Sherlock Holmes and Mrs. Hudson."

Wilf approached them as well, shaking both of their hands in turn. "Are you two aliens then as well?" he asked.

Sherlock just rolled his eyes, but Mrs. Hudson laughed weakly and shook her head. "Oh no, I'm human. I didn't even realize that was optional until now. I just walked in here the first time, just a few minutes ago." She looked around the box's interior with awe. "It's quite lovely, isn't it? Strange, but lovely."

Wilf grinned brightly. "It's wonderful is what it is."

"Where are we?"

It was the first time Sylvia had spoken since they'd entered the ship. Her voice was shaky, but there was anger there now. "Just, just tell me that. Where the hell are we?"

Wilf hurried to her side, assuring her, "It's like I said, we're in an alien spaceship."

"It's called the TARDIS," the Doctor explained from behind the console. "Stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. My time and space machine. Well, just space for the moment, sort of been banned off time, long story. We should be back in Baker Street now." There was a sort of strain in his voice. Wilf wasn't sure what it was, but if he had to guess, he would say the Doctor was worried about something.

"This is where Donna was all that time," Wilf told his daughter. "She went off in this box to see the stars and the aliens!" That's when he realized what was wrong. Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson, and the Doctor were there, but there was no Donna. His wonderful, stubborn, fantastic Donna was nowhere to be seen. He'd just assumed she was somewhere else on the ship, but now he wasn't sure. He looked to the Doctor, asking quietly, "So where is she the ? Where's my Donna?"

The Doctor's mask crumbling, and Wilf could suddenly see how worried and weary he was underneath. The alien came out from behind the console to stand directly in front of Wilf, looking him solemnly in the eyes. "Wilfred Mott," he said seriously, "Donna's in danger. But I promise you, I will do whatever it takes to get her back."

Wilf felt a pang of fear for his granddaughter in his chest. But despite his fear, he believed the Doctor. He could see the weariness of a fellow soldier in those eyes, the rage at a friend being taken from him. A small thing to base trust off, perhaps. But there was no doubt in his mind that this wonderful alien would do whatever it took to save his Donna.

He nodded. "Alright. How can I help?"

The Doctor looked uneasily at his hand. "Well, you can start by putting that down," he said a little distastefully.

Wilf had forgotten he was still holding his gun. He switched the safety on, then set it down on the console. "Sorry about that. I had to distract those men somehow. Never really had the stomach to use it though."

The Doctor grinned again, but this time Wilf could see the tiredness underneath. "I like you, Wilfred Motf," the alien declared. With that, he started for the door, Sherlock rising to join him. "Come on, we've got more to figure out at Baker Street."

Wilf followed, shaking his head with a laugh. He had a feeling everything was going to work out just fine. Donna would be fine, and she'd go off with this Doctor again and see new worlds. He was sure of it. No one deserved it more than his Donna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 2:45 AM, so I'm gonna keep this short and sweet.
> 
> Wilf is fun to write, Mrs. Hudson is difficult to write, Sherlock and Doctor banter is fun to write, Wilf is awesome. His POV is so much fun to write, he has his own unique voice. He's so pure. He also likes the word "wonderful" a lot.
> 
> I saw the Sherlock episode, it was epic.
> 
> SPOILERS
> 
> The theories were fantastic! XD And the hint at Hoopstrade had me squeeing with joy. I was so happy.


	28. The Final Game: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Sherlock return to 221B to get a better idea of where to find their friends.

     “So, what are we trying to find here?” the Doctor asked Sherlock somewhat impatiently. He didn't want to be back in 221B. He wanted to be out there, looking for their companions, doing _something_.

     The detective was staring at a map on the wall, gaze darting quickly across the surface. “Possibilities, Doctor,” he replied, not looking away from the map. “Those four could be anywhere in the city. We need to narrow down the possibilities.”

     “How, exactly?”

     “By narrowing down the search area.” Sherlock turned sharply away from the map, gesturing out the window. “Look at the sun. We've been unconscious for at least two hours. Now, need to consider how many of our companions were taken, and how. The men who took them weren't from Moriarty's inner circle, they couldn't have been, I've had them all arrested.”

     “Are you sure about that?” the Doctor asked sharply. “Because the last time I checked, you were pretty 'certain' that Moriarty wasn't a threat anymore.” The worry and anxiety he was feeling for his companions was making him irritable, and it showed in his tone. Sherlock looked up at him with a sharp expression, eyes narrowed.

     The detective turned away from the window, striding up to the Doctor until he was face to face with the angry Time Lord. He told him quietly, “Getting angry at me isn't going to help us find them any faster. I was wrong about Moriarty. Alright?” The Doctor blinked in surprise to hear the words come out of Sherlock's mouth. “Now, we are going to have to work together to get everyone out of this. I need your help, Doctor.”

     The last part was said in an unusually vulnerable tone. The Doctor could tell Sherlock really meant it. He had lost John so soon after getting him back, and he was scared. Really, properly scared. He needed the Time Lord's help, and was willing to ask for it. Really, the Doctor couldn't stay mad in the face of that. As much as Sherlock needed the Doctor's help, he needed Sherlock. He was worried and scared too. He sighed. “Sorry. Go on.” Sherlock nodded once, giving a small half-smile, then continued.

     “As I was saying, these people aren't professionals. They're just hired guns, and they were in a hurry. They would've grabbed whoever was closest and ran. I would say the easiest way to take and transport them was to take groups of two.” He gestured towards the couch, saying, “Molly and Lestrade were over there, so it would have been easiest to grab those two together, while John and Donna were closest to the TARDIS, by me. Most likely scenario is, John and Donna are being kept somewhere together, Lestrade and Molly together somewhere else.”

     The Doctor remembered the layout of where everyone had been standing before they'd been knocked out, and he had to admit that Sherlock's logic made sense. “Alright. So we have two different locations we're looking for.”

     Sherlock nodded. “Yes. And we can widen the search down more. Like I said, we've been out for two hours. They couldn't have walked. Even in London, you can't drag two unconscious people through the streets without getting noticed. So, obviously, they used a car. This is my city. I know every road, every speed limit, every average driving speed. So, two hours, not counting time spent actually locking them up wherever they are, Here's the area they could have possibly driven in that time in any direction..” He pulled a couple of thumb tacks off of the nearby table and placed one on Baker Street and the rest in a different distances from Baker Street, forming a somewhat misshapen border surrounding it.

     Behind them, Wilf let out an impressed whistle. “You got all that from where everyone was standing?” The Doctor had almost forgotten that he and Mrs. Hudson were there.

     “Obviously,” Sherlock replied testily.

     Donna's grandfather grinned. “That's impressive, that is.” He walked closer to the map, brow furrowing as he said, “Thing is though, how do you know that your friends aren't still being driven off wherever? They could be still driving.”

     The Doctor answered him on that one. “Nah, not likely. The energy blast that knocked us out is pretty sophisticated. It's set to time how long you knock somebody out. If we were out for two hours, then so were the rest of them. They would've woken up around the same time as us.”

     “And it's most likely that they would've wanted their prisoners easy and unconscious the whole time they were transporting them,” Sherlock picked up the Doctor's explanation quickly. “They would've made sure to store them before they woke up.”

     “Besides,” the Doctor added, “Judging by what Moriarty's video said, he would've wanted them already hidden by the time Sherlock and I woke up. Best way to play the game.” He said the last part bitterly.

     “Alright,” Wilf agreed easily. He turned back to the map, studying it with interest. “So let me see if I've got this. My Donna and the rest of your friends are hidden somewhere in this area of the city here,” he gestured to the area in the border of thumb tacks, “and they're being held prisoner or something?”

     “They're pawns in a game,” Sherlock explained bitterly. “The last pieces in a game I've been playing for a very long time.”

     “A man named Moriarty,” the Doctor continued. “A criminal with a rather extensive network. Sherlock's been working hard to take it down, and I've been using my TARDIS and time travel to help him. Moriarty's dead now, but the last of his network took our companions away and gave us a time limit to find them.”

     “It's payback for destroying Moriarty's network,” Sherlock explained.

     Wilf nodded. “I see.” His eyes were full of worry as he asked, “So, what happens if you don't find them in the time limit?”

     Sherlock and the Doctor exchanged a quick glance. It was a possibility neither one of them wanted to think about, could think about right now. They had to focus on what was right in front of them. Focus on getting their companions back. Don't think about the alternative.

     But Donna was his granddaughter. He deserved to know.

     “They'll kill them,” he told Wilf grimly. With that, he turned away and looked at the map, gaze flitting over the surface as he tried to guess at where his companions might be.

     He could only hope that they were okay, and that Moriarty's men hadn't hurt them.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The first thing Molly felt was a painful throbbing in her head. She let out a groan of pain, curling into herself, drawing her arms and legs into her chest. This attempt at movement alerted her to a rather large problem; her ankles and wrists were bound.

   This realization snapped Molly into full consciousness. She opened her eyes, ignoring the fresh jab of pain in her head, and tried to take a look around. Wherever they were was darkly lit. She could only just make out the pale shape of the walls and ceiling. The room was small, narrower than it was long, with a ceiling probably only a few feet taller than her full height. At least, that was what she could gather from her less-than-optimal view from the floor. To her left, towards her head, the only light in the room streaming in through the crack of a door's outline. The door had an opaque window with bars over it. Judging by that, and by the dark shape that looked something like a bed in the far corner, she assumed it was some sort of prison cell.

     By the time she finished her observations, the pain in her head had mostly faded, and her eyes had adjusted to the dark, if only a little. Molly could see a motionless lump some feet in front of her, the right shape and length to be a human body. She wasn't sure whether it was even alive or not until it let out a very familiar groan. “My head...”

     “Greg!” she called out in surprise.

     “Molly. 'S that you? Ugh, I can't see a damn thing in here. Don't think I'm facing you anyway...” The detective inspector's voice faded, and Molly could see his dark form moving slightly. “Hmm. I seem to be tied up.”

     “We both are,” Molly told him quietly. “Can you shift the ropes at all? Maybe one of them's not tied as tight on you.”

     Greg shifted slightly, testing the strength of his bonds. “Ugh. Sorry, no good. You?”

     “Already tried,” she told him ruefully. “No luck.” The companion stretched back her head, angling her head so she was looking directly at the door. Wherever they were, and whoever had taken them, it looked like they weren't going to just stand up and walk out.

     They'd have to work a little harder to get free.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Of course. Of bloody course. The minute Sherlock Holmes swanned his way back into his life, John got kidnapped. Again. This was just great.

     John Watson could feel the ropes digging into his wrists and ankles. The doctor was on his side, on a cold, cement floor. He was in a basement of some kind, cold and musty, with a single, flickering lightbulb hanging from a chain, and a staircase leading up to a trap-door.

     John wasn't alone either. He could feel someone pressed against his back. They were still breathing as far as he could tell, but other than that they weren't moving. No way of telling who it was.

     The doctor called out cautiously, “Who's there? Are you okay?” A new thought occurred to him, turning his voice hard. “Sherlock, if that's you, I'm gonna bloody kill you.”

     The person in question responded with a groan, then a sharp, “No, I'll be killing you if you ever mistake me for that skinny stick insect again.”

     John blinked in surprise. “Sorry. Um, who are you?” After a moment's thought, he realized, “Wait, you're that woman who was with Sherlock and Molly.”

     “Donna,” the red-haired woman who had been standing beside Sherlock supplied. “Donna Noble.”

     “John Watson,” the doctor replied drily. “Nice to meet you.”

     “Likewise.”

     The doctor fell silent, trying to figure out exactly what was happening. Taking him to get to Sherlock Holmes made sense. It had happened before, far too many times to count, far more times than he should probably be okay with. At least he was used to it by now. But taking Donna? She wasn't exactly in Sherlock's circle of trust, at least not to the knowledge of anyone who knew Sherlock before he “died.” Why take her?

     Donna's voice broke through his thoughts. “So, any idea where we are?”

     “I dunno. Basement of some sort.”

     The ginger woman snorted. “No, really? Couldn't have figured that out myself, thanks!”

     “You asked,” John muttered. He decided to voice his earlier thoughts and see if Donna had any insight. “I'm more interested in who took us, and why.”

     Donna sighed. “You get used to this sort of thing when you're friends with the Doctor, unfortunately,” she grumbled.

     John chuckled. “Same thing for Sherlock.”

     “There's a shock,” Donna snarked. “Really, whoever did this, it could've been for either of them, the Doctor or Sherlock. Wonder who it was that took us.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     “Moriarty,” Molly decided firmly. “Has to be.”

     “I thought Moriarty was dead,” Greg argued. “And Sherlock wouldn't have come back unless he was sure Moriarty's network was gone.”

     Molly shook her head, her cheek rubbing against the cold floor. “You didn't know him, Greg. He wasn't just Sherlock's enemy. He was obsessed.” She shuddered as she remembered the look in his eyes when she'd seen him again only hours ago. “There is nothing that man wouldn't do to take down Sherlock Holmes.”

     “Alright,” Greg said easily. “Say this was Moriarty. What does that mean for us?”

     Molly sighed. “Nothing good.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     “James Moriarty is a psychopath,” John told Donna grimly. “If he really is behind this like you think, then we're in danger. There's no telling whether he's going to kill us, or use us as bait, or what.”

     Donna sighed. “I only met him earlier today,” she admitted, “But I saw his eyes. He was planning something for Sherlock. I know it.”

     “Then we really need to figure a way out of here,” John decided. He looked up at the door, commenting, “Now, I'm not Sherlock Holmes or anything, but I'm guessing we're not in earshot of anyone friendly. They didn't bother gagging us.”

     He felt the companion stiffen behind him, realizing aloud, “They're not worried about us yelling for help.”

     “Or screaming,” John agreed grimly.

     “Right. That settles it. I'm not sitting around and waiting for that high and mighty Time Lord to swoop in and save us.” Donna shifted, her shoulder jabbing into John's back as she craned her head to get a look at the door above them. “There's got to be a way to get these ropes off.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     “Have you got anything sharp on you?” Greg asked. “A knife or something?”

     Molly chuckled humorlessly. “I haven't carried any sort of weapon since...” She trailed off, flinching at the idea of what she had almost said. Right now, in a cramped space, and a rather helpless position on the floor, was very much _not_ the time to be thinking about the trauma of the Year. She forcefully shoved the thoughts to the back of her mind, instead saying, “Anyway, what about you? Anything?”

     “Nothing,” the detective inspector replied regretfully. “Besides, I get the feeling that whoever took us, Moriarty or not, would've been smart enough to take anything sharp away before tossing us in a cell.”

     “You'd be surprised,” Molly said with an actually genuine chuckle this time. “We've had some rather stupid jailors in the past. It all depends on the planet, and the jailors. Also the jail cell.” She lifted her head slightly, angling it to get a better look at the door. “Speaking of, I wonder where this particular jail cell _is_.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     “Do you think we're still in London?” Donna asked.

     “I dunno,” John replied. Without any windows or anything, he couldn't tell how long it had been since they'd been knocked out. They could be anywhere.

     “Suppose we could be anywhere,” Donna said, voicing John's thoughts. “Probably still on Earth though. I hope. And in the right time period.”

     John looked around the basement dubiously. “Well, wherever we are, they seem to have mastered electricity,” he commented drily, gazing at the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.

     Donna lifted her head to look at the lightbulb. “Good point,” she conceded. “Well, you never know. With the Doctor, pretty much anything's possible. You wouldn't believe some of the stuff I've seen out there.”

     “I could say the same about working with Sherlock,” John pointed out. “Like this. The whole getting-kidnapped thing. I'd say that's pretty far removed from normal.”

     Donna snorted. “Try having your fiance cheat on you with a giant spider.”

     John blinked. “Yeah, I think you win that one.”

     “No, but I know what you mean about Sherlock,” Donna said. “That git is such a stick in the mud sometimes. He's always off being clever and rude while everyone else is just trying to enjoy the sights. I can't even say the number of times I wanted to smack him. And a couple of times I actually did.”

     John couldn't help but laugh at that. “You know,” he said with a chuckle, “I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”

     Which was good, John thought, because they were likely going to be there a while.

**SCENEBREAK**

     “We're probably going to be in here for a while, Molly,” Greg pointed out.

     “No, we're not,” Molly said sharply. “You know why? 'Cause we're gonna get ourselves out of here somehow. There's got to be a way to get these stupid ropes off!” She pulled harder on her wrists, trying to slide at least one hand out, pull the ropes apart, find a weak point, _something_. But the ropes didn't budge. The only result she managed to get was scraped and slightly bloody wrists from the ropes rubbing against them and biting into them.

     “Molly, just stop for a minute,” Greg said firmly. Reluctantly, Molly ceased tugging at her bonds. “That's not going to help. We need a better way to get these ropes off. But for now, until we think of something, let's just relax. Panicking isn't going to help anybody.”

     “I'm not panicking,” the companion protested. Molly could feel panic in her heart and in her mind, but she fought it, forced it back, tried to mask how it was killing her to be so helpless. She wasn't even sure where the fear was coming from anymore, whether is was from one of her many tangled memories from the Year, or just TARDIS travel in general, or even her time on Earth. She didn't know anymore, she just knew that she was scared, and she couldn't let it show. She could never let it show.

     “Good,” Greg said calmly. “But I think we should take a minute to just relax and get our bearings back. A few minutes won't hurt. Then we can start planning how to get out of here.” Molly could tell he didn't believe her when she said she wasn't panicking, but for once, she didn't mind. Maybe a minute or two of silence would do her good. Just sit back and think about what was happening and let herself accept it.

     Molly sighed, closing her eyes and shutting out what little light there was. Just for a few minutes. Then they'd figure out how to get out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, I'm okay with this chapter. Not entirely happy with how the dialogue between the captors went, or Sherlock's deductions, but whatever. It'll have to do for now.
> 
> I tried. I really tried to make Sherlock's deduction about the possible area of driving distance more specific, but I know nothing about driving in London, and I could find nothing helpful online. Sorry. Not British, nor do I or have I ever lived in a city. Don't know much about driving in cities period.
> 
> We'll see the kidnapped people doing more in later chapters.


	29. The Final Game: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone waits at 221B while Sherlock tries to figure out where their friends are.

     The TARDIS let out an angry hum, causing the Doctor to look up from under the console with an irritable glare. “You, hush,” he scolded the ancient and powerful time machine. “I don't need complaints from you right now.”

     The ancient time machine in question gave the equivalent of a derisive snort. The Doctor glared up at the time rotor, but internally, he knew the ship was right. They were still in 221B, parked while Sherlock did his deductions in the flat. The Doctor was in the TARDIS, fixing a couple of things around the console. He told everyone it was important so they could take off safely without ripping a hole in the fabric of space and time, but in reality, he was sulking. He knew it, the TARDIS knew it, and she was letting him know she wasn't happy about it. She didn't like him using her as an excuse to mope around. And he couldn't really blame her.

     The Time Lord was alerted by the sound of someone entering the TARDIS. When he looked up, he saw Mrs. Hudson walking in with a cup of tea in each hand. She still looked at the TARDIS interior with awe and wonder as she stepped inside, clearly not over the sight of it, before approaching the Doctor. “Hello dear, thought you could use a cup of tea.”

     Tea. The British go-to, the solver of all problems. The pure humanness of it brought a tired smile to his face. “Thanks,” he said wearily, coming out from under the console and taking it from Mrs. Hudson's hand. He sat against the console, taking a sip, trying to force a smile for Mrs. Hudson's sake. “Just how I take it,” he commented in surprise. “Thanks. How'd you know?”

     “Oh, Sherlock told me,” the landlady explained. “Had to ask him a couple times, but he finally said it. He gets so wrapped up in his cases, sometimes it's like you're talking to the wall. Honestly!” She chuckled.

     The Doctor gave a weary smile. “Well, it's good. We need him focused on this one.” He grew somber again as he remembered exactly what Sherlock was working so hard to figure out, and why.

     Mrs. Hudson seemed to sense something was wrong. She hesitated, then smiled again, looking around the interior of the console room. “It's wonderful, this place,” she remarked, awe in her tone. “How's it work then?”

     Grateful to have something else to focus on other than his worry, he explained, “It's bigger on the inside. She's called the TARDIS, stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.”

     The landlady turned away from the ship to look at the Doctor. “What that man said earlier... are you really an alien?”

     He gave her a tired half-smile. “I really am.” The Time Lord waved his arm vaguely at the interior of the TARDIS to make a point, explaining, “I travel, time and space. Well, we. We travel.”

     Mrs. Hudson's eyes flashed with understanding. “This is where Sherlock has been this whole time?” she asked softly.

     The Doctor sighed. “Yes. And Molly Hooper, for longer, since the hospital, though it's been more like two and a half years for her. And Wilf's granddaughter, Donna Noble. It's been the three of them with me for a while.”

     He hesitated. The shock of his companions being kidnapped had distracted him from the fact that all of Sherlock's friends were just now being told that he was alive. John was the primary concern for the detective, he knew, but he still cared about Mrs. Hudson, and she was likely to feeling at least a bit of bitterness at the detective. The Time Lord's voice grew serious as he told her, “Listen, life on a time machine, it can get pretty weird. Time sort of passes differently. For instance, it's been three months here since Sherlock's death. But for us, it's been nearly a year and a half since we brought Sherlock on board. It's been a long time since he's been home. And that year and a half, it hasn't been kind to him.” He looked carefully at Mrs. Hudson as he spoke, imploring her to understand. “I promise you, Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock had his reasons for doing what he did, and he's suffered for it.”

     To his surprise, the landlady just nodded. “I can see it. He's quieter, you know. Worried about John, I expect. Those two always were so close. I can't imagine what it's been like to be away from him for so long.”

     The Doctor looked at her in surprise. From what he could tell, Mrs. Hudson was practically Sherlock's mother. She had every right to be furious at him for lying to her and letting her think he was dead. But instead, she was all concern for her tenant. “It's been hard, yes.”

     She sighed. “The poor dear. And now John's gone again. It must be just horrible for him. And for you dear, of course,” she added, reaching out and patting him reassuringly on the hand. “I'm so sorry about all this. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know.”

     The Doctor smiled softly at the landlady. “Thank you.” He was beginning to see why Sherlock, finicky creature that he was, appreciated Mrs. Hudson as he did. “Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock Holmes is certainly lucky to have you around.”

     Mrs. Hudson looked a little surprised at his comment, then smiled warmly at him. “Why thank you, Doctor.” The two sat together against the console, sipping at their tea in compatible silence. After several moments, Mrs. Hudson stood, remarking, “I better go see what the boys are up to in there. You shout if you need anything dear.” With that, she turned and walked out the TARDIS, leaving the Doctor alone to sulk with his great and powerful time ship.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Wilf was sitting in the armchair usually used by John Watson, watching Sherlock speaking on the phone with someone. He wasn't sure what the conversation was entirely about or who was on the other line, but he could see the detective was deeply worried. He held himself tensely, speaking with a hard, clipped tone. Whatever was going on with Donna and the Doctor's other friends, it wasn't good.

     On the couch diagonal from him sat his daughter, Sylvia. She was perched at the very edge of the seat, her foot tapping, arms crossed defensively across her chest, hands rubbing her arms. The woman clearly wasn't coping well with everything that was happening.

     He reached out and patted her knee comfortingly. “There, there, my dear. It'll all be alright.”

     Sylvia's head snapped up, her eyes blazing with a sudden anger. “Fine?” she repeated scornfully. “I just got pulled onto some bloody spaceship and whisked off across London in a blink of an eye while people are talking about aliens and time travel, and you think that's fine?!”

     Wilf blinked. “I think it's wonderful,” he said honestly.

     His daughter snorted, some of her anger deflating. “Yeah, you would, wouldn't you?” She leaned back into her chair, her posture slightly more relaxed now. “Just, just tell me, you said Donna was on that ship?”

     Wilf felt a pang of worry for his girl. God knows where she was now, but she hoped she knew the Doctor was coming for her. “She's in danger, Sylvia. But we're gonna help her.” His daughter just nodded and sighed, expression tight with worry.

     “Excuse me, Wilf, was it?” He turned to see the older woman from before behind him, a tea cup in hand. “I don't think we were properly introduced. Martha Hudson.”

     She held out a hand, which he shook warmly. “Wilfred Mott,” he replied. When Sylvia made no move to introduce herself, he added, “And this is my daughter, Sylvia.”

     “Pleasure,” the woman said warmly. “Well then, Wilfred, Sylvia, how do you take your tea? I just finished making a brew.”

     “Two sugars, please,” Wilf told her. “Same for her.” Leaving the quiet Sylvia behind, he followed her into the kitchen, figuring he'd be more useful in there than watching a conversation he didn't understand and sitting with a silent Sylvia. As Mrs. Hudson crossed over to the table and started pouring a cup of tea, he asked, “So how are you mixed up in all this? D'you travel with the Doctor too?”

     The older woman laughed merrily at that. “Oh goodness no, I just met him today.”

     “Right, yeah, you said that already,” Wilf remembered, feeling a bit ashamed.

     “It's quite alright dear, I'm a bit muddled too after everything that's happened today.” As she handed Wilf his cup, she explained, “I'm the landlady here, I rent out this flat to Sherlock and John.”

     Wilf frowned. “Sherlock Holmes and John. Why do I know those names?”

     “Oh, it was all over the news,” the landlady supplied. “Sherlock's been a big name for quite a while. Him and that funny hat of his.”

     The former solider felt a rush of surprise as he realized what she was referring to. He remembered reading a couple articles about the master detective Sherlock Holmes and his blogging companion Dr. John Watson. More specifically, the most recent ones. “Hang on,” he said with a frown, “Didn't he die a while back?”

     “Yes,” Mrs. Hudson said with a merry laugh, “But here he is! He's come back. It's a miracle.” She shook her head, wearing a fond smile as she thought of the detective in the other room. Wilf could tell she cared a lot about him. The look on her face was the one he wore when he thought about his Donna.

     After a few moments, her expression grew more somber. She gave Wilf a sympathetic glance, adding, “A shame he had to come back to the middle of this. You said it was your granddaughter who was taken, right?”

     Wilf nodded. “Donna,” he told her. “She started traveling with that Doctor a while back. Haven't seen her since.”

     Mrs. Hudson nodded in understanding. “I'm sorry she got taken. But don't worry about it. Sherlock can be a bit rude sometimes, but when it comes to finding people, he's the best there is. He'll find your granddaughter Wilfred. She'll be okay.”

     “I believe it,” Wilf assured her. “Him and that Doctor.”

     The landlady leaned back against the table, looking curiously out at the TARDIS in the living room. “He's a strange man, that Doctor. Suppose that makes sense, him being an alien and all. I've never seen someone look so old, and so tired. The poor dear.”

     “I know what you mean,” Wilf agreed. “That look in his eyes. He's worried about them, Donna and the others.”

     “I think there's more though,” Mrs. Hudson added thoughtfully. “I've seen John look like that sometimes, when he's thinking about the war.”

     “I fought in a war too.” Mrs. Hudson looked at him in surprise. “It was a long time ago. But the memories aren't always fun.” He wondered if that Doctor had fought any wars, and what memories might be haunting him. Perhaps later he should try and find out. He couldn't really compare what he'd seen in a human to what an alien might have, but it was always nice to have someone there to listen to you, he thought.

     He looked thoughtfully at the blue box, thinking about the man inside, and his granddaughter. “You know,” he said slowly, “before she met the Doctor, Donna was engaged to this man, and it fell apart. Not long after that, her dad died, and her mum's never really been there for her like she should. She's had a rough old time of it. But she seemed so hopeful when she talked about him. It was like her life had a purpose again, and it was to find that blue box.” Wilf turned to Mrs. Hudson, smiling as he said, “Donna might be in danger now, but I'm glad she found him. I think it'll do her a world of good, to see all those stars up close.”

     “I know what you mean,” the landlady said. “The other girl the Doctor travels with, Molly, she's a friend of Sherlock's. Well, sort of. She fancied him, but he was rather rude to her, unfortunately. Oh, she was always so shy when I knew her. I felt so bad for the poor girl. But the first time I saw her after she started traveling with him, she seemed much more confident. She stood up to Sherlock. I think traveling's done her a lot of good.”

     Wilf smiled. “The Doctor's done them both a favor then. And now he needs help. We've got to help him find his friends.”

     “Of course,” she agreed. “Sherlock needs John back. I don't think I know what he'd do without them. And poor John's been through enough without all of this as well.”

     “Same with Donna,” Wilf added a little worriedly.

     Mrs. Hudson smiled warmly at him. “You know, I think we're quite going to get along,” she said.

     Wilf smiled back. He liked this lady, with how much she cared about her tenants, and much she was trying to look out for everybody in the middle of her own shock. “I think we are,” he replied warmly. With that, he stood up fully, reaching out a hand to help Mrs. Hudson up. “Right then, let's go see what we can help out with, eh?”

     Maybe they couldn't do much, but they would do what they could to help. The Doctor and Sherlock deserved that much.

**SCENEBREAK**

     “I'm going to bloody kill them!”

     Donna felt John flinch slightly from the rather loud shout right by his ear. Now that their situation was clear to them, she had turned very angry very quickly. And unfortunately, she was right by John Watson's head, and very, very loud.

     “Those bastards! Get down here and face us! I'll give ya something to think about!”

     “Alright,” John interrupted somewhat irritably, “d'you mind not shouting right by my ear?”

     “Well, I'd move, but there's really not much of a choice, is there?” Donna snapped. She shifted, futilely trying to move to make her point. She raised her voice again as she added, “Yeah, you better be grateful I'm tied up right now, 'cause the second I get these ropes off I'm giving you lot a piece of my mind!”

     Before John could reply, there was a loud banging on the door above the staircase, and a rough, thickly accented voice called out, “Shut it down there!” 

     “I'll shut you up in a minute, buster!” Donna retorted. “Come down here!”

     The only reply was the loud _bang_ of a gun. Donna actually fell silent at that, feeling a tremor of fear. She'd been threatened before, kept hostage before, but somehow this suddenly felt different. This felt dangerous.

     “That's better,” the voice said coldly. “Now, stay shut up.” He gave a final bang on the door, then became quiet. There was the sound of footsteps walking away, and the man speaking again in a lower, much more assured tone, as if suddenly more comfortable with the language. “Those two better keep a lid on it. I don't want to have to wait much longer.”

     “What're they talking about?” John asked quietly, as if to himself. Donna was about to say wasn't it obvious, when she realized. He couldn't understand them because they weren't speaking English. Even as far away as she might be from the TARDIS and the Doctor, it was still translating languages in her head. It might have been a small thing, but it was still comforting to realize.

     “Just be patient, Andor,” another, gruffer voice said. “We're supposed to watch 'em, not damage 'em. Keep your cool.”

     “I don't care how much this guy's paying us to wait. If that ginger bitch doesn't keep her mouth shut, she won't live to see the end of 24 hours. We can still keep the guy alive.”

     “No! We were given orders. If the detective and his friend don't show up in 24 hours, _that's_ when we kill them, not before.” Donna felt a thrill of terror. The two voices faded away, leaving Donna to worry over what she'd heard.

     “I wish we could know what they want,” John said regretfully. He tugged against his ropes again. “Although, I think it's pretty safe to say, it's not anything very nice.”

     Donna swallowed. “It's not.”

     “Sorry?”

     “I can understand them,” Donna said slowly. “Well, sort of, the TARDIS translates stuff to English in my head. I could hear what they were saying.”

     John paused, clearly waiting for her to continue. “And?”

     She let out a slow breath. “And we need to get out of here. They're going to kill us if we don't.” Sherlock's flatmate stiffened in response. “Apparently, they've given Spaceman and Sherlock 24 hours to find us. What the hell's the point of that?”

     John sighed. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “It's a game. It's that damn game again.”

     “Sorry, what?” Donna snapped. “You saying this is some kind of prank? 'Cause I can tell ya right now, it ain't funny!”

     “No, no, not a prank,” he assured her. “Sherlock and Moriarty were... arch-nemesises is the best word I can think of. Sherlock is... well, I guess you know. He doesn't care about people, he cares about the case, the more puzzling the better. He and Moriarty had this sort of game going, Moriarty would give Sherlock a time limit to solve a case before he blew some poor sod up. Sherlock loved it. A sort of battle of the brains. And now we're the poor sods. Again. Jesus, after everything, you think it'd be over, but no, now we've gotten dragged into their stupid game again.” Donna could hear the raw bitterness in his tone, and try as she might, she couldn't think of anything to say to help him.

     After a few moments of thought, she took on a decisive tone. “Well, that settles it.”

     “What?” John asked warily.

     “I'm not sitting around waiting for that smug stick insect to swoop in and save the day. We're getting out of here ourselves.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, it's a bit later than I'd like, but here's the newest chapter! And yes, it's also very slow. I wanted it to be faster-paced, but I needed characters talking, and all of it's pretty important for character development. The next chapter should show more of the captives, and be more action-filled on both the captive end and the rescuer end of the story. It should also be the last part of the episode.
> 
> In actual Sherlock news, the season is over! Yes, it hasn't aired in the US yet, but I still watched it anyway... shh... Anyway, I bet some of you have questions about whether I'll be including any s3 characters in my story.
> 
> SPOILERS:
> 
> No, I shall not be including Tom, nor do I think any of you would want me to, since from what you've said you seem to be either Sherlolly shippers or agree with me and ship Hoopstrade. I think Tom was a nice enough guy, but she broke up with him, it's not like it matters much anyway.
> 
> And no, more regrettably, I shall not be including Mary Morstan in my story, much as I love her. It's only been two months since Sherlock's "death," so John hasn't had time to meet her. Perhaps if I ever write a sequel to this story, I might include her (don't hold your breath though), but it's unlikely. I do love her character though, I think she's fantastic.
> 
> And finally, no, I will not be bringing James Moriarty back from the dead. I know it's canon now, but since I have no idea how he survived, whether it's a hoax and Moriarty really is dead, or if he's injured or had a labotomy or something, I'm not going to touch it. I am so glad he's back and I think it's going to be a wonderful plot point, but it just doesn't fit with my story. So for the purposes of this fanfic, Moriarty is 100% dead with a side of shot in the head.
> 
> I think literally the only thing I took from s3 was Mrs. Hudson's first name. I'm very grateful they said that in the episode, 'cause I really wanted her to use it to introduce herself to Wilf. It's not like she could just introduce herself as "Mrs. Hudson." So yeah, very nice timing on that.
> 
> END SPOILER:
> 
> Anyway, message me if you want to discuss s3, I will totally talk about it. I shall try to post more soon and wrap up this episode.


	30. The Final Game: Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna and John try to figure out how to escape.

     “Molly?”

     The woman in question startled slightly at the sound of Greg's voice. Neither of the had spoken in several minutes. Molly had tried to use the silence to collect herself, but instead, she'd only gotten herself more panicked. She was totally, completely helpless, and she hated it. Memories and nightmares flashed in her mind, with nothing but the dark and the silence to hold them back.

     She snapped back into reality when Greg spoke. “Yeah?” Molly shook her head violently, trying to shake off the images that had crept up on her in the dark. She tried to focus on Greg's voice and use it to keep her grounded.

     “How have you been?” Molly blinked in surprise at the question.

     She raised her head slightly, trying to get a better view of the man in front of her. “Really? We've been kidnapped and our lives could be in serious danger, and you want to ask personal questions?” She was surprised to realize how much she sounded like the Doctor. Their first meeting ran through her head. “ _Humans! Here we are, hiding from a blood-sucking alien, and you're asking personal questions._ ” Molly did her best not to think about the implications of that.

     Greg let out a short laugh. “It's not like we've got anything better to do with our time,” he pointed out wryly.

     “Good point,” Molly allowed. She hesitated. How she'd been wasn't exactly a fun subject for her at the moment. “Alright,” she said finally, trying very hard to convince herself it wasn't a lie.

     “Are you sure?” Greg pushed. “Because it's okay if you're not, you know.”

     Molly snorted. “Everyone else is okay,” she said somewhat bitterly. “Why not me?”

     There was a pause. Molly craned her head to try and see what Greg was doing, but she didn't see any movement. After several moments, he said in a low, strangely solemn tone, “Who says I'm alright?”

     Molly blinked in surprise. She wasn't sure what to really say in response. Greg seemed just as cheerful as he always was. It had never occurred to her that maybe he was suffering inside just as much as she was.

     Quietly, she said, “You seem pretty okay to me.” It was a question, not an accusation.

     “I've been working on it,” he told her. “Been going to therapy for a while. Plus, I've got my work to focus on.”

     Molly actually laughed at that one. “Therapy? Really, Greg?” As a pathologist who had worked very closely with the police, she knew therapy could be very effective and occasionally essential for traumatized cops. However, therapy required you to be honest, and being honest about the kinds of things she and Greg had seen were more likely to get them landed in a mental hospital than anything. “Isn't that a little... unwise?”

     “I'm being careful,” Greg assured her. “I'm not telling them anything they won't believe. Mostly, I just try to shift events around so they think I'm telling them things I've seen on the job. They know I worked with the famous Sherlock Holmes, so they're willing to believe things, to an extent.”

     The companion said doubtfully, “I don't see how telling lies to people who don't understand helps anything.”

     “It helps to know people care,” Greg replied. “To really have them listen, you know? And I've also kept in touch with Jack Harkness.”

     “Captain Jack! How is he?”

     “Good, I think,” he assured her. “He doesn't really talk about himself all that much. I think he's happy with his team, though. He's quieter. I think he's been through some rough times too. But he's always willing to talk, and listen.”

     Molly was quiet for a few moments. She had avoided talking about the Year for so long, she had honestly convinced herself off that she was better that way. But Greg made it sound so easy to dig up those memories and lay them out bare for people to see. Maybe it wasn't as painful as she always feared. “And that helps, does it? Talking?”

     There was a pause, Greg clearly thinking over the right thing to say. “It can be hard,” he admitted. “I mean, the stuff we saw wasn't fun. But I think it's better to just let it all out. Better than letting it sit around in your head.”

     Molly closed her eyes, wondering over what Greg had said. She honestly wasn't sure what to think. Continuing on the way she had been wasn't an option, she knew that. But if she tried talking about it to anyone, that would mean letting herself really think about it, and that could be far worse than just the suppressed memories she'd already been experiencing. Which was the better option, to tell all, or just try to forget it all? She couldn't tell anymore.

     After several moments, Greg finally broke the silence. “How are things on the TARDIS? Been anywhere exciting?” His tone was decidedly lighter, the joking tone she'd gotten used to over the Year. She appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood, and tried to push her heavy thoughts away as she focused on his question.

     “Paldoon was nice. You should've seen the snow, Greg. It was gorgeous. And you really should meet Donna.”

     “Was she the woman who was with you before? The ginger one?”

     “Yeah, that's her,” Molly confirmed. “She's an old friend of the Doctor's, actually. You'd like her. Especially when she's arguing with Sherlock.”

     “She argues with Sherlock Holmes?” Greg asked. “Oh yeah, I'll definitely like her then.” Molly chuckled. They had spent a year with the detective, so it felt okay to joke about him, when they both knew how much they really valued him.

     “What about the Doctor then?” Molly froze at Greg's perfectly innocent question. “How's he been doing?”

     Molly took a deep breath. “He's fine,” she said a little too quickly.

     She couldn't see Greg's face, but by his brief silence, he was surprised by Molly's sudden change in tone. "Are you sure?" he asked carefully. "Molly?" There was no harshness or impatience in his tone. Instead, he kept his voice soft, allowing Molly to answer in her own time instead of demanding an immediate answer.

     The old desire to lie and block the question bubbled up. But she couldn't lie, not to him. Greg had always supported her during the Year, when she was still finding it hard to become a leader. She couldn't lie to him now.

     "I don't know, Greg," she answered honestly. "I can't exactly talk to him about any of this."

     "Why not?"

     She gave a frustrated growl. "I just can't. And it's getting harder and harder to stay when there's just so much unsaid. I don't think I can keep this up much longer. After everything that happened..." She trailed off, remembering some of the less fun events of the Year. However, there was a certain comfort in knowing that across from her in the dark, Greg was remembering the same things.

     She heard him sigh. "Oh Molls, I'm sorry." He'd taken to calling her Molls on the rare occasion during the Year. "I didn't know. Why didn't you call me?"

     "I've been busy," she replied. "And... I just didn't want to talk about it."

     "We don't have to talk about it now," Greg offered.

     "No, it's alright," Molly assured him. "I don't mind talking to you." She smiled softly, even though she knew Greg couldn't see her. "I've missed you. It's good to see you again. Y'know, despite the circumstances."

     He chuckled warmly. "It's good to see you too, Molls."

**SCENEBREAK**

     "So why did he do it?"

     Donna blinked. "Sorry, what?" They'd been testing out their ropes, trying to see if any of them could possibly be pulled loose, but so far they'd had no luck.

     John took a short, irritated breath, and started again. "Sherlock. Why did he do it? Why did he fake his death?" He was more composed now than he had been back at 221B, but there was still a lot of pain in his question, and a lot of bitterness. Donna felt a sudden surge of sympathy for the man. From what she'd gathered, Sherlock and John had been very close. John was clearly very broken up over Sherlock's so-called "death." She couldn't imagine how he was feeling now that it seemed like it was all some sort of sick joke.

     However, she also knew how much Sherlock had given up for the man stuck in the basement with her. And somehow, she had to make him see that, for both of their sakes. The companion thought over her words carefully for a moment before trying to explain. “I don't know the whole story. He didn't tell me anything about it for a long time. You have to understand, when I first came on board, the first time we met, he started insulting me and deducing me and I slapped him. We didn't get along after that. We would fight _constantly_. To be honest, I think the Doctor and Molly were worried that one of us would drive the other off the TARDIS eventually."

     John snorted. "That sounds like Sherlock all right." Yes, Donna decided, there was _definitely_ bitterness in his tone.

     "I thought he was the coldest, most selfish person I'd ever met. I really did. But then I asked him why he decided to come on the TARDIS in the first place. He said that Moriarty arranged things so that either Sherlock had to kill himself, or Moriarty would kill you.”

     “Yeah, he already said that,” John interrupted. “But what about after that? Why didn't he tell me he was alive?”

     Donna shrugged. “He didn't say. But I think he wanted to make sure you were safe.”

     “From what?” he snapped. “Moriarty's dead.”

     “But his network wasn't. And he couldn't slip up and tell you, not when the gunmen were still watching you.”

     “So he doesn't trust me.”

     The companion shook her head forcefully. “It wasn't that,” she assured him. “He didn't say it, but I could tell. It's not that he didn't trust you. It's that he wouldn't have been able to forgive himself if he didn't do absolutely everything to keep you safe.” John fell silent at that. Donna couldn't see his face, but she could tell her words had gotten to him. Her voice softened. “Listen, I guess I don't know Sherlock as well as you do. But I know him well enough to know when he's been an ass and when he actually cares about someone. The only time I ever heard him talk about someone like he really cared about them was when he told me about you. I don't blame you for being mad at him. But you should know that he's suffered for it, and he just wanted you to be safe.”

     John was silent for several moments after that. Donna wondered what he was thinking about. She didn't want to push him any further, but she really hoped he would forgive Sherlock. He might be an arse, but she was his friend, and she wanted this one thing to work out for him. He deserved that.

     After a few minutes, John finally spoke up again. “This isn't working,” he said, refering to their tugging at their ropes. “We're going to have to try something else.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly and Lestrade had fallen silent again, each wrapped up in their own thoughts. The detective inspector had seen Molly struggle through the Year. They'd seen some horrible stuff, but Molly had always kept soldiering on. She'd never shown any signs of flagging or doubt. That's why he'd thought that maybe, even after all of that, she might still be okay at the end of all of it.

     But now he knew how wrong he was. Molly wasn't okay, not in the slightest, and he was at something of a loss at how to make it better. He wanted to, more than anything. Molly meant more to him than he would really admit. She didn't deserve to suffer like this. Even without any added attraction to her, he was her friend, and he wanted to help her.

     Quietly, he asked, "Are you going to leave the TARDIS?" She hadn't said it exactly, but he could tell it was on her mind.

     Molly sighed. "I'm not sure. I don't want to, but I don't know if I can stay. It's just getting really complicated, and I don't feel safe anymore." Her voice was slightly agitated, a trace of fear tinging her tone. Lestrade wished he could comfort her with his usual crooked grin and a quick joke like he usually would, but Molly couldn't see him in the dark.

     There was a short pause, then she asked him uncertainly, "Do you think I should stay?"

     Lestrade hesitated. He wanted to remind her just how hard she'd fought to get back to the Doctor and the TARDIS. How much good traveling on the TARDIS had done her. But at the same time, he could see how much staying was hurting her. In the end, he just said, "I think that's up to you. But whatever you choose, I'll help you. You don't have to do this alone."

     Even without seeing her face, Lestrade knew she was wearing that soft smile of hers. "Thanks, Greg," was all she said, but he could hear the smile in her tone. Content with that victory for now, he turned to focus on his ropes again, trying to figure out any way to get them off.

     Without warning, a low hissing sounded from the walls, and a strange, metallic smell sprang up. "What the-" He was cut off by a sudden, burning pain in his throat.

**SCENEBREAK**

     John knew if they were gonna go anywhere, they had to get their ropes off. Since tugging and pulling wasn't doing anything, they'd have to find something sharp to use to get them off, which would require moving around the room.

     He pulled his knees and arms into his chest, then shifted over onto his elbow, eventually pulling himself onto his knees and elbows. In that position, he was able to drag himself forward, inching forward on his elbows and knees, his wrists and ankles still bound.

     The basement they were in was somewhat dark, but he could see a workbench a couple yards in front of him. Maybe there was something on there he could use to cut the ropes.

     Behind him, he could hear Donna shifting around, following his example to get up. The doctor managed to edge his way to one leg of the table. He shoved his shoulder against it, jostling the table in an effort to make something fall off. Nothing. A couple shoves later, and still nothing, except for a loud _screech_ as the metal foot of the table scraped against the concrete floor.

     John froze at the loud sound. Above him, he could hear footsteps, and two voices speaking irritably in what he thought was Norwegian.

     “They heard you,” Donna warned, a definite note of anxiety in her voice. “They're coming down to check.”

     “Yeah, I worked that out for myself, thanks,” John said a little irritably.

      "Well then whatever it is you're doing, hurry it up!" the companion snapped. "I don't fancy being caught trying to escape, do you?"

     "Fair point," John admitted. As his hand brushed against the back of the table, he felt his skin brush against something sharp. Upon a quick inspection, he realized with was an exposed nail.

     The footsteps were getting closer. There wasn't much time left. John quickly began rubbing the ropes on his wrists against the nail. _Come on, come on,_ he thought desperately.

     He felt something in the ropes give way. Part of the rope had been sliced through. Feeling a rush of triumph,  he pulled his hands free, then leaned down to untie the ropes on his ankles. The knot was pulled tight, so it took him a few tries to get it untied, and by that point, the footsteps were far closer. There wasn't enough time left to totally untie Donna.

     Donna seemed to realize it too. Before John could apologize, she quickly told him, "Just do my legs." He understand; she didn't need her hands to escape. He hurried to her side and undid the ropes around her ankles, which thankfully came off more quickly than his own had. Before he could try to undo her wrist bonds anyway, the footsteps stopped, and there was the sound of the trapdoor being unlocked. Time was up.

     A rough voice called out in English, "You two better be right where we left you, or you're getting a bullet in the skull."

     John felt a tremor of fear at his tone, but he forced himself to focus. He helped Donna to her feet, then pulled her to the side, beside the staircase, where the men coming in wouldn't be able to see them. In a low voice, he warned Donna, “They're going to be armed. We need to take them out, then run for it.”

     “Got it,” Donna responded quietly.

     They waited as the door was opened, and as the men descended the staircase. Only when theey reached the ground did they act. John quickly reached out and snatched the gun out of the closest man's hand, while Donna swung her bound hands at the other man's head. He let out a cry of pain, stumbling back, but not dropping the gun. John saw the danger immediately, and swung his gun to point it at the man, warning in a low voice, “Don't move.” The man hesitated, then finally lowered his hand, glaring at John.

     Donna turned to thank him, but stopped, her eyes widening. “Look out!” she warned, but it was too late. John felt something hard slam into the back of his head. He stumbled forward, pain shooting through his head, pounding in his skull as he struggled to focus on what had happened. The man he'd disarmed must have stuck him with something. He felt his vision being blotted out, and sounds around him growing muffled.

     The last thing he saw before blacking out was Donna starting up the staricase, then looking back at him, hesitating. He gave her a short, encouraging nod, saying what he couldn't. _Go._ He slid the gun on the floor towards her, then he passed out.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Lestrade felt like his throat and chest were seizing up, and a burning sensation in his throat, like it was on fire. He coughed violently, he couldn't stop, but that only seemed to make it worse. The detective inspector curled in on himself, drawing him arms and legs in towards his chest, in an effort to lesson the pain. It helped, but only a little.

     Then, just as suddenly as it had started, whatever it was, it stopped. The burning stopped, and he was able to breath again. He gulped in the deepest breaths he could manage, desperate to get air back into his lungs. It took a little bit, but it finally felt okay to just breath normally again.

     Then he remembered who else was with him. “Molly!” There was no answer, just some coughing. Lestrade pushed himself onto his elbow, rolling himself onto his other side so he was facing Molly, then quickly inched himself over to her side. Now that he was right in front of her, less than a foot away, he could see the pale outline of her face. Her face was scrunched up in pain, and she was curled in on herself, still trying to cough the stuff out of her lungs. He reached out with his bound hands, grasping her hand in his. “Molly, are you alright?”

     After a few moments, the coughing subsided, and she gave a stiff nod. “I'm fine.” She opened her eyes, staring right into his, only inches away. “But now we've got bigger problems.”

     “I'd say,” Lestrade said drily. “What the hell was that stuff?”

     To his surprise, Molly was easily able to supply an answer. “Snuff gas,” she told him. “I've seen it before. Bit alien, bit advanced, but nothing too flashy. There's a bigger problem.”

     Dreading the answer, he asked, “What?”

     There was a definite shake in her voice as she replied, “It's fatal.

**SCENEBREAK**

     “Got it,” Sherlock announced, hanging up his phone and sliding it back in his pocket. He strode into the TARDIS, the three other passengers following him curiously. “Doctor, we need to go the police station.”

     The Time Lord blinked at him in surprise. “The police? Why?”

     “Short answer; Mycroft's sending them information we need. I'll explain on the way, but we should hurry.” Without explaining further, Sherlock crossed over to the console, starting up the flight sequence.

     The Doctor pushed back a flicker of irritation that Sherlock somehow knew how to start up his TARDIS and helped him, plugging in the coordinates for Scotland Yard. He was relieved they were finally doing something other than sitting around 221B, but he was starting to get more and more worried as the clock started to count down. His companion's lives were on a deadline, and if he didn't meet it, he didn't want to think of what would happen.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Donna saw John get hit on the head with a bottle of something the man had picked up, and she'd seen him collapse. She had already started up the stairs, but when she saw John, she had paused. She couldn't just leave him like that.

     But then John had nodded. And she'd known that she wouldn't do either of them any good stuck. Much as she hated it, her best course was to find the Doctor and bring him here to save John.

     The companion picked up the gun John had slid towards the stairs, then bolted hearing an angry shout of, “Get back here, bitch!” behind her. She really, really hoped that the fact she was holding a gun would make them hesitate to follow her, but she wasn't going to stick around and find out.

     She made it up the stairs, navigated her way quickly through what appeared to be a perfectly normal house, then made it to the front door. Only when she was outside and on the street again did it really hit her that she'd escaped. But she had to keep going. She had to find the Doctor and the TARDIS and fix this.

     She just hoped that their captors didn't decide to kill John before she could save him.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Lestrade froze. “Fatal?”

     “Not immediately,” Molly corrected. “And not in the kind of dose we got. But if they're feeding us that stuff, I doubt their intent is just to hurt us. There's plenty of other things they could use for that.”

     “They're going to keep feeding us that gas until it _is_ fatal,” Lestrade realized.

     Molly nodded. “I think so.” She was clearly trying very hard to remain calm, but even in the darkness, he could see that she was trembling in fear.

     Desperate to comfort her somehow, and to comfort his own fear by reminding himself that she was there, he grasped both of her hands, somewhat clumsily because of his bound wrists, and squeezed them comfortingly. As he did, he sent a silent prayer to whatever might be listening that the Doctor find them, and fast.

     Otherwise, they were dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun!
> 
> Anyway, that's the end of this episode, the next episode will wrap up this plotline. After that... I honestly don't have a plan yet. I have a very general plan of where I want the story to go, but I haven't decided which episodes to do just yet. Sorry.
> 
> I realize that there was an awful lot of talking going on this episode and not a lot of running around escaping/saving people, and I apologize for that. I wanted to get a lot of character heart-to-hearts crammed into this little bit of time. It was clunky and awkward, but necessary. However, the next episode should (hopefully) focus more on the action and less on the chit-chat.
> 
> And yes, Donna Noble is defending Sherlock Holmes. Something I bet she never would've even considered happening in a million years.


	31. Return of a Hero: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Sherlock arrive at Scotland Yard.

As he was landing the TARDIS, the Doctor turned to Sherlock. Time was short, but he had just thought of something rather important. “Wait, you were accused of committing all of Moriarty's crimes before you left, weren't you?”

“And?” Sherlock asked tersely.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “ _And_ , don't you think it'll be a bit inconvenient when we walk in and get arrested? It's not like you're very popular around here, from what I understand.”

All the detective said in response was a clipped, “Don't worry about it.” The Doctor wanted to snap in response that he was in something of a worrying mood, but there wasn't time to argue further. He focused instead on landing the TARDIS as quickly as he could, resulting in a bit more jostling than normal. Sylvia got caught by surprise, toppling over onto the grating, but Mrs. Hudson managed to grab onto Wilf's arm before he fell, her other hand on the railing. The Doctor ignored them all. He headed straight for the door, Sherlock right on his heels.

He swung the door open, only to be greeted by several guns in his face. More specifically, several very frightened and confused detectives were staring at the TARDIS, with only a couple of them having enough state of mind to be pointing their guns at the strange blue box. But the rest were slowly catching on. “St-step away from the box and put your hands up,” one ordered shakily.

Sherlock glared at him. “Nice landing,” he said sarcastically. “Couldn't have landed in a discreet closet, could you?”

The Doctor just sighed. He really didn't like guns in his face. Raising his hands slowly in the air and taking a few steps forward, he turned to Sherlock and retorted, “This was _your_ bright idea, you fix it!”

The detectives seemed to have just noticed Sherlock. One of them stared at him in shock, voice going squeaky as she gasped, “Sherlock?”

The detective in question smirked. “Ah, Sargent Donovan. Long time no see.”

Donovan gaped at Sherlock for a few moments before coming to her senses again. She raised her gun, ordering sharply, “Hands up, Holmes. No tricks now.”

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Sherlock remarked sarcastically. He did as ordered though, raising his hands almost lazily above his hands, his gaze flitting across all the different detectives, probably deducing where the gun they held had come from and what they'd eaten for lunch or whatever it was he looked for when he was measuring people up. The Doctor was more interested in determing what kind of threat they possessed. They seemed mainly confused about the TARDIS's strange appearance, and Sherlock's return from the dead. They were more suspicious of Sherlock than him, which might help. He took a slight step forward, telling the detectives slowly, “We're not a threat. We need your help.”

“I don't care why you're here,” the sargent said sharply. “I wanna know _how_ you're here. What the hell's up with that weird box of yours?” She gave the TARDIS a disturbed glance-over before turning back to Sherlock. “And you, you're supposed to be dead.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “As usual Donovan, always stating the obvious,” he snarked. The Doctor glared at him, silently willing him to reign in the sarcasm.

“Fine, whatever, you're alive,” Donovan said, “but you're still a criminal. And you,” she said to the Doctor, “you broke into Scotland Yard. Somehow.” She turned to the other detectives and ordered, “Arrest them.”

Before the detectives could move, Sherlock said, “That's all well and good, but I think you've got something more important to be worrying about. Detective Inspector Lestrade never came back from his lunch break, did he? And that was a couple of hours ago.”

Sergant Donovan froze at his words. Her voice and expression turned hard as she demanded, “What the hell did you do to him?!” She stepped closer to him, the gun raised threateningly.

Sherlock didn't so much as flinch. He replied calmly, “I didn't do anything. I'm trying to save him, Donovan.”

“Oh yeah? Any why should I believe you?”

“Look in Lestrade's desk,” he told her. “You'll find some pretty convincing files in there.”

Donovan looked at him uncertainly for a moment, then turned away decisively, snapping at the other detectives, “Search them!” A couple of detectives came over to pat the Doctor and Sherlock down, not seeming to notice Mrs. Hudons and the Noble family, who were watching anxiously from inside the TARDIS. They didn't find anything on Sherlock, but one of the detectives managed to find the Sonic Screwdriver and grab it off him, much to his annoyance.

The sargent crossed over to what the Doctor assumed was Lestrade's desk and pulled one of the drawers open. She pulled a manilla folder out labeled, “James Moriarty Files” and started flipping through. After a few moments, her eyes widened. “Shit,” she breathed.

“It's all there,” Sherlock said smugly. “The falisified Richard Brook documents, the erased James Moriarty files, the proof of my innocence. Right in front of you. I sent it to Lestrade months ago. He knew the truth, but I couldn't let him tell anyone until the time was right. There were people who'd be put in danger if the truth came out that I was alive.” He looked imploringly at Donovan as he added, “Those people are in danger now. Moriarty's men have them.”

Donovan looked up from the file to glare mistrustingly at Sherlock. She'd seen the evidence, but she still didn't seem ready to trust him.

The Doctor decided now was a good time to speak up. “Sergant Donovan,” he said calmly, “I promise, he's telling the truth. You can arrest him later, but right now, we need to save Lestrade and the others. We're running out of time.”

That decided it for her. The Doctor could see her posture relaxing slightly, becoming less threatening. “Fine,” she said reluctantly. “What do you want us to do?”

“We need to use your computers,” Sherlock replied immediately. “My brother is sending security camera footage of the kidnappers leaving 221B. We can try and put an alert out for the vehicles they used, and track their path through London as far as we can.”

Donovan nodded. “On it.” She seemed to have thrown herself into full work-mode. _Probably as an alternative to arguing with Sherlock_ , the Doctor mused.

As the detectives lowered their guns, the Doctor shared a relieved glance with Sherlock. The hard part was over. Now they could focus on saving their friends.

**SCENEBREAK**

Molly could feel the fear rising up. This wasn't a hostage situation, not anymore. This was life and death. They were going to _die_ if they didn't get out of there soon.

“So, any ideas?” Greg asked weakly. She forced herself to take in a deep breath. Right. Fall back into that role. Leader of Hooper's Army. The one who gives the orders and tells Greg and Sherlock where to go and what to do. Somehow, oddly, the feeling of stepping back into that role actually calmed her. It gave her something to focus on other than their impending doom and her own panic.

“Right,” she said in that authoritative tone she'd picked up during the Year. “First thing, we need to get these ropes off.” Greg was in front of her. In the pale lighting, she could just make out his bound wrists, rightw within reach. Her brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Let me see...”

She reached out and felt for his wrist, her hand brushing against his in the dark. The feeling of a rope brushed against her fingers, and she focused on that, trying to find the knot. Eventually, she found it. Her fingers worked at undoing the knot. It took a while and a bit of awkward fumbling, but finally she was about to loosen the knot and untie the rope.

Greg edged away from her and reached down to undo his ankles as well. Once he was totally free, he got up to a sitting position, rubbing his wrists. “Thanks for that. Couldn't have tied 'em any tigher, could they?” Once he was more comfortable, he leaned over and grasped Molly's hands, undoing her ropes much more quickly than she'd managed to with his. It was fairly hard to untie rope when you hard very limited hand movement.

She quickly sat up and freed her ankles, then sat rubbing her wrists for a few moments like Greg. She couldn't see the skin in the dark, but she could bet it very red and scraped up from the ropes cutting into her skin. She could feel the cuts where she had tried too hard to pull them loose. Her wrists were probably in a worse state than Greg's, since she was more panicked in her attempts to pull free. “No kidding,” she said.

Molly slowly got to her feet, careful not to overexert her stiff legs. The muscles protested against being used after her being stuck lying down for so long, but it wasn't too painful, so she ignored it. Instead, she took a few slightly shaky steps towards the door.

Once she reached it, she tried to look out the barred window, but the glass was too opague to really get a good view outside. There was no way of telling where they were. Instead, she tried pressing her her weight against the door, on the off chance it had been left open. No such luck. Of course. It was never that easy, was it?

She turned to Greg and asked, “Do you have anything flat, like a playing card or a driver's liscence or something?” Maybe there was a way to jimmy the lock (???) from the inside. There certainly wasn't a door handle or a lock to pick.

There was a brief pause as Greg checked his pockets. “Sorry,” he said regretfully. “Looks like they took my wallet. What about yours?”

Molly chuckled briefly. “Carrying ID while traveling through time and space tends to confuse things more than help. And modern money's kind of useless too. I can't remember the last time I carried any.”

“Good point,” Greg admitted.

The companion sighed. “I guess that plan's out then.”

“So, Plan B?” Greg asked.

“Working on it,” Molly replied. She leaned her back against the door, thinking. There really wasn't any way to open the door from the inside without a handle or knob of some kind. Maybe if she had a sonic screwdriver with her, but there wasn't really any point in wishing for what wasn't there. There was really only one other thing to try.

“We need to try to break down the door,” she told him. “Give me a hand?”

“Of course.” Greg made his way over. Together, they shoved their weight against the door, Molly driving her shoulder against the metal with everything she had, but it didn't so much as budge. They tried slamming into the door a couple times, but every time, nothing happened. After several moments, Molly finally relented, turning to lean back against the door again. As she rubbed her shoulder where she'd slammed it against the door, Molly racked through her brain, trying to think of any other way to escape.

After a few moments of silence, Greg spoke up again. “Alright then. Plan B?”

Molly let out a slow breath. “I'm not sure,” she admitted. The urgent _But we need to think of something fast_ was left unspoken, but they both knew it.

She straightened herself up, squaring her shoulders back. "Come on," she ordered, "Let's start looking around. There's got to be something that can help us get out of here."

**SCENEBREAK**

Donna only spared a brief glance over her shoulder at the house she had left. Then she ran, and just kept running.

The neighborhood she was in seemed rather run-down and less-than-friendly, judging by the looks she got as she ran past. Probably why their kidnappers hadn't been very worried about keeping them quiet, she thought vaguely. Donna didn't have time to wonder on it very much. Her kidnappers could be on her heels right now. She had already tossed the gun she'd taken from them. She didn't need to get arrested for carrying a gun while she was trying to get back to 221B. But that meant she no longer had any way to defend herself if those bastards did manage to catch up to her. All the more reason to keep running.

Only when her legs were starting to ache and her chest clutching painfully did she dare to slow to a halt. As she leaned over with her hands on her knees, trying to get her breath back, Donna tried to figure out where she was. It wasn't anywhere in the city she recognized. It was a much better part of town than the one she'd been in before, that was for sure.

Donna forced to take in a deep, shuddering breath as she considered what to do next. She had to find the Doctor. He could be anywhere by now, of course. It was times like these that she could strangle that man for not carrying a phone. Just what was she supposed to do when something like this happened and he could already be halfway to Venus looking for her? Idiot Spaceman, never thinking ahead.

The only thing she could think of was to try 221B. Maybe Sherlock or Molly would be there, or that police fellow Molly had been talking to. At least someone who could tell her where the Doctor had gone.

Once she got her breath back, Donna made her way to the sidewalk. She tried to hold up her hand to hail a cab - only to find that her wrists were still tied. Damn kidnappers for not giving John enough time to get them off. How on earth was she supposed to get around with her hands stuck together?

Donna settled for raising both hands in the air, calling out, "Taxi!" A new thought occurred to her. She brought her arms down, awkwardly fumbling around with her pockets for a moment to check. _Damn._ Those bastards. They'd stolen her wallet. Molly said there wasn't really any need to carry one, but Donna kept hers around just in case, stocking it with whatever alien money she came across. Someone on that time machine had to carry money, and Molly and the Doctor certainly weren't going to do it. But now it was gone. No way to pay for a cab. Which meant walking. Probably a lot of walking.

Oh, those kidnappers were _finished_ if she ever saw them again.

Donna looked around for a minute before walking up to a young man and asking, "'Scuse me, think you could tell me where I am?"

The man looked at her oddly, his gaze flitting down to her bound wrists. He gave a somewhat crude grin. "What happened? Fun night last night or something?"

Donna faked a laugh. "Yeah, something like that. Anyway, where am I?"

"Fleet Street," he provided.

Her heart sank a bit. That wasn't anywhere near Baker Street, as far as she could tell. "Right. Um. Any idea how to get to Baker Street from here? 221B Baker Street?"

The man's brow furrowed. "Baker Street? Innit that where that detective guy lived?"

"Is it?" Donna asked sarcastically. "I had no idea. Could you just tell me how to get there?"

"Alright, alright. Head down that road for a bit," he pointed at a sign indicting a nearby road, "then you'll want to turn right, then right again. Not sure about the rest though, you might want to ask for directions again." He looked at her uncertainly. "That's almost an hour walk. You sure you don't wanna grab a cab or something?"

Donna forced a smile. "I'm fine. Thanks." With that, she started down the road the man had indicated.

She only hoped she could find the Doctor in time to save John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait again, and the kind of pushing Wilf and the others to the background, and the shortness of the chapter. However, I can announce that I have most of the rest of the story finally planned out! Yay!


	32. Return of a Hero: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John wakes up, Molly and Lestrade try to figure out ways to escape, and Sherlock and the Doctor work on finding their friends.

     John was starting to get tired of waking up in a strange place with a throbbing head.

     Of course, the place he woke up wasn't strange, or rather any stranger than it had been before. He was still in the same basement, and he was tied up again, execept this time he was in a chair. His wrists and lower arms were bound to the arms of the chair, and each foot and lower leg was tied to the legs of the chair. Great. This was going to be a bit harder to get out of.

     As John slowly blinked his eyes open, he saw that one of his captives was seated in a chair some feet in front and to the side of him. He was sitting on it backward, crossed arms and head resting lazily on the top of the chair. The other was pacing in front of the stairs, posture tense and angry. He seemed to be muttering to himself in Norwegian.

     The man in the chair saw John shifting. “Ah. So he awakes.” The pacing man looked up, eyes suddenly hard and angry. “Took your time. Nasty, that bump on the head.”

     John did not miss the gun in the pacing man's hand, or the glint of a blade in the other man's. He also had not forgotten what Donna had told them earlier. At least one of them had been eager to kill them ahead of schedule. His partner had kept him in check before, but now that Donna had escaped and John had helped her, who knew if he'd be willing to stop the other from putting a bullet in John's head? He had to tread carefully here. The wrong word might get him shot.

     In a rough accent, the man in the chair told John, “So, it looks like your little girlfriend left you here to die. Not very nice of her.”

     So Donna had gotten away safely. John felt a rush of relief. Now there was a chance she could find Sherlock and get help. At the very least, she was safe, and he hadn't gotten hit on the head for nothing. “Good thing she wasn't my girlfriend then,” he said lightly, keeping his eyes on the pacing man's gun. “Just met her today.”

     “Then you are a fool,” the sitting man told him bluntly. “You might now die for saving a stranger.”

     “Better than two people dying, I guess.”

     The man in the chair started chuckling. “You are a funny man,” he said.

     The pacing man snapped something angrily in Norwegian, waving his hands in emphasis. John kept his gaze warily on the gun he was waving about. His parter growled back something in response. John couldn't understand the words, but he could see the gist of the conversation. The pacing man wanted to speed up the conversation, maybe wanted to kill John, something of that nature, and his parter was warning him to shut up and let him take care of this.

     The man in the chair turned back to John. “You see, you have made a difficult position for us. We don't want to have to kill you. However, we will if we have to. Do we have to, Mr. Watson?”

     John forced himself to meet the man's gaze without wavering. The soldier in him kicked in; he squared his shoulders and held his gaze up evenly, voice cool as he said, “Yeah, but Mr. Moriarty wouldn't be too happy about that, would he?” The sitting man looking slightly surprised at this revelation, but he didn't react otherwise. “Like you were telling Andor over there earlier, you're not supposed to kill me until 24 hours are up. I don't think your boss would be very happy if you kill me ahead of schedule. Especially after you already lost Donna. Not after all that money he paid you. Moriarty's not exactly known for being forgiving, and he was clever. You really think he didn't have a back-up plan in case you two cocked it up?”

     Andor looked up sharply, and the sitting man looked at him in shock. Andor's voice turned sharp with anger as he growled, “How'd you know that, eh? How the hell'd he know that Martin?!”

     The sitting man, Martin, held his hand up, silencing Andor. However, his gaze was still hard as he looked at John. In a low tone, he said, “It's a fair question.”

     John shrugged. “Maybe I understand Norwegian,” he suggested lightly.

     Martin gave John a careful, measuring glance. After a few moments, he said, “Nah, nah, I figure it's that ginger gal, yeah? Otherwise you wouldn't have said anything.”

     “Doesn't change what I know,” John reminded him.

     He cocked his head thoughtfully. “No it doesn't,” he decided. Martin sat up, his arms still resting on the head of the chair. “Right then, you're right about that. Mr. Moriarty told us to keep you alive 'til we gave your detective pal a full day to find you. But that doesn't mean nothing if you escape before we get a chance to kill you. Better to kill you early than lose you. And don't be mistaken here; your life means exactly nothin' to us.”

     “Won't be losin' any sleep over killing you,” Andor added nastily.

     “So what we need to figure is whether it's worth keeping you alive to try to escape or just kill you and be done with it,” Martin summed up.

     John held in any sort of reaction to that. “Moriarty wouldn't be plea-”

     “Moriarty's dead,” the Martin reminded him darkly. “Blew his own brains out and all. What he would and wouldn't be pleased about doesn't really matter anymore. If he were alive, yeah, but he's gone, and his network's gone. Just a few stragglers he hired a couple months after he died. They won't give us much trouble even if we do kill you early.”

     “So let's do it now and be done with it!” Andor hissed.

     Martin glared at his partner over his shoulder. “No. If we keep him alive longer, the detective brat might come to save him, then we can bag an even bigger reward. Heard Moriarty's new hires are looking for him. Alive or dead, I'm sure.” John couldn't hide the thrill of fear that idea gave him. Martin looked back at him thoughtfully for a few moments before deciding, “We'll give it a few more hours. Give Holmes a chance to show up. If he doesn't, then we'll kill him.” He smirked cruelly at John as he added, “You better hope he shows up.”

     Andor hesitated, his grip on his gun tightening. John eyed the weapon warily. After a few moments, he growled, “Fine. But I ain't wating long.” With that, he turned and stormed up the stairs, slamming the door behind him. Martin stood and twirled the chair around, sitting normally in it facing John. He leaned back, lazily watching John, as if daring him to try anything.

     John let out a slow breath. He leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes, giving the best appearance of ease that he could. Internally, he thought over what he'd just heard. Martin might be willing to keep him alive for a couple more hours, but he didn't trust him to keep Andor from getting impatient and offing him early. Either way, he wasn't going to get the full 24 hours.

     But despite the fear that was clenching tight in his chest, he felt a strange sort of comfort. When he had sacrificed himself to let Donna escape, he had been making a very concious decision. He hadn't known Donna long, but he trusted her to do what she could to get him rescued. He had a sneaking suspicion that if their captors hadn't been armed, she would've happily taken care of them herself. But that wasn't what he'd been thinking. What he'd been thinking, in that last moment, was that he'd decided to trust Sherlock to come for him. Sherlock was still an ass. There was no doubt about that. But John understood the stakes attatched to what he'd done, and though he wasn't sure he'd have made the same call as Sherlock, he could recognize what a hard decision that must have been. He felt trust for Sherlock again, and right now, that was enough. He trusted Sherlock to do everything in his power to save him.

     He only hoped the detective would be fast enough.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly paced slowly around the edge of the room, hand pressed against the wall. Without looking at him, she told Greg, “They've got to be feeding us that gas from somewhere, right? Some sort of vent or grating or something.”

     Greg realized aloud, “You think we might be able to use that to get out?”

     “Maybe,” Molly replied. “It's something, anyway.” She moved slowly along the edge, feeling around the hard concrete wall in the dark, trying to feel for some kind of weakness or hole.

     There was a few minutes of silence. She was starting to wonder if maybe it was some kind of high-tech vent that closed shut when it wasn't being used when Greg called out, “I found something!” She hurried immediately to his side.

     Molly reached up to feel the wall. Her fingers brushed against a metal grating of some kind, like you'd find on an air vent. Hope fluttered in her chest. She felt around the vent, trying to get a feel for the size of it. Her heart sank when she realized it was only large enough for her arms to get through, not her entire body, let alone Greg.

     Greg seemed to notice this a few moments after she did. He smiled sadly and said, “Maybe we could try prying it open?”

     “What good would it do?” Molly asked dully. Now that Plan A had failed, she was feeling significantly less hopeful. “It's not like we can fit in there. Suppose we should've seen that coming. I mean, it's not like in the movies where all the air vents are big enough to crawl through.”

     “No, but we might be able to use part of the vent to pry the door open,” the detective inspector pointed out.

     That made Molly pause. “Good point,” she admitted. “Any plans to get it open?” She felt along the edges of the vent. On each corner, a screw was screwed into the vent, holding it into the wall. The companion tried using her fingernail to unscrew it, but the nail was too short and kept slipping out of the dip in the nailhead. Different plan then. “We need something to unscrew these.”

     Greg lifted his hand to feel one of the nails she had indicated. “Hmm. Here, let me try this.” Molly saw him fumbling around with his pocket, then pulling something out. She couldn't make out what it was in the dim lighting, but when he held it up, she saw that it was a coin. “Sometimes these work.”

     Molly gave a small grin. “Good thinking.” She took the coin and turned back to the vent. It took some doing in the darkness of the cell, but she finally managed to get the coin into the slot on the nailhead. To her relief, after a few laboursome turns, it became much easier to unscrew the nail. After a minute, she was able to slip the screw out of the vent entirely. She turned to Greg with a grin. “Definitely good thinking.”

     He shrugged good-naturedly. “Happens now and then,” he joked. Molly chuckled in response, but internally, she was starting to get that sinking feeling again. Even once they had the vent and the screws free, what then? Would that really be any use in getting the door open? And what if loosening the vent let in the gas easier? What if they were just killing themselves faster? They had a plan now, sure, but Molly couldn't help the feeling of hopelessness. Wherever they were was clearly high-tech and possibly alien. She had a horrible feeling that they weren't going to be able to get out of this cell any time soon.

     But they had to try. Otherwise, they were dead.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Doctor and Sherlock followed Donnovan to one of the computers. Once there, Sherlock immediately sat in front of it and began typing. He pulled up security camera footage, explaining, “I was able to get some footage from Mycroft, but due my current status as a dead criminal, his ability to help is somewhat limited. Until my name is publicly cleared, he won't be able to do much. But we do have the security footage from Baker Street when we got knocked out. The footage during us getting knocked out was tampered with, so we won't be able to see who got dragged into which car, but before and after is fine.” He set the footage on fast-forward, gaze flitting quickly over the screen.

     “I can see if I can hack into the network and get more footage,” the Doctor offered. “Once we know what we're looking for.”

     Donnovan glared at him briefly, then looked irritably away. “I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that,” she said pointedly. To Sherlock, she asked, “What are you looking for exactly?”

     As his gaze flitted over the screen, he replied, “The vehicles they used to transport Lestrade and the others. There would be two, non-descript, probably small as to not draw attention.” He paused the footage. “There.” He pointed to a dull tan car parked across the street from 221B.

     “It's a bit close to the flat.” The Doctor looked behind him in surprise to see Wilf and Mrs. Hudson. They must have followed them out of the TARDIS once Donnovan had decided to trust them. Wilf pointed to the car, asking, “Isn't it a little conspicous?”

     “They needed to be as close to the flat as they could,” Sherlock replied testily. “Better to be close to the flat than be seen dragging unconcious bodies very far. The car sat there a good fifteen minutes before the wave knocked us out, but gets out of there only a few minutes after we're knocked out. When it first parks, no one comes out, and it's kept running. Perfect for a get-away.” He zoomed in on the car's liscence plate. He let out a growl of frustration. “Too pixelated.”

     The Doctor let out a cough. “Here.” He leaned in over Sherlock's shoulder towards the computer, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and giving the computer a quick zap. The pixels shrank, and the image became clearer, until the liscence plate was clearly readable.

     “Got it,” Sherlock said with relief. He turned to Donnovan and ordered sharply, “Get everyone you've got looking for that car. I'll contact my homeless network, see if I can't get their help. Meanwhile I'll focus on finding the other car in the footage.”

     “I've got some friends around the city,” Wilf offered.

     “Not really the time, thank you,” Sherlock shot him down without looking at him.

     “No seriously,” Wilf protested. “I can call them up. Won't take any time at all. They're good friends, they'll be willing to help.”

     Sherlock glanced at him for a split second, then looked back at the screen. “Fine,” he said curtly.

     The Doctor felt a rush of gratitude towards Wilfred Mott. Donna was his granddaughter for the universe's sake. By all rights he should be blaming them for getting her tangled up in this Moriarty mess in the first place, or at the very least out of his mind with worry. Instead, he was focused on the task at hand and determined to be useful. He spared the man a tired smile. “Thank you, Wilf,” he said warmly.

     Wilf smiled back with equal warmth. “It's no trouble, sir,” he assurred him.

     As everyone went off to contact people about the car, the Doctor turned back to the screen, brow furrowed with concern. Who was in there, Donna and John, or Molly and Lestrade? And where were they now? He itched to be in the TARDIS, doing everything he could to hunt them down, but right now, he knew he was needed here. He had to focus, for Molly and Donna's sake. With that thought, he sat before the screen and kept his gaze focused on it. Someone would need to watch the footage for the other car while Sherlock was busy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late, so I'm not going to say much here. Just that I'm going to try and post again soon. Sorry if the chapter was a little dull, especially the Molly and Doctor bits. I'll try to add more excitement next chapter, especially with Donna.


	33. Return of a Hero: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna finally reaches 221B.

"I don't like it, Martin."

The man in question rolled his eyes and let out an impatient sigh. "You don't seem to like much of anything," he grumbled.

"I'm serious," Andor snapped. "That ginger lady's run off. She could be anywhere! Hell, the cops could be right outside the damn door 'cause that bitch led them straight here!"

"Calm the hell down," Martin growled. "We're ages away from any cops who give half a crap. She won't have found help yet."

Andor let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, but she will. We have to do something about this damnit!"

John watched their conversation uneasily. So far, he'd been able to keep their attention on him, but now the subject of Donna was finally being brought up.

Martin let out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the chair. "You're right. We can't just let her get help."

John decided to chance speaking up. He cleared his throat and pointed out, "I thought the whole point of this was to give Sherlock a chance to find us?"

Martin looked over at him irritably. "The detective, yes. As long as he comes alone, let him come. We can take that skinny little bastard any day." He frowned. "It's the cops I'm worried about. The ginger might just have enough brain cells to go to them instead of Holmes."

"So let's go after her," Andor suggested sharply.

"What, and leave soldier boy over here to escape while we're gone?" his partner asked sarcastically. "Fat chance."

Andor cursed angrily in Norwegian as he ruffled the back of his hair in a motion eerily similar to something Sherlock would do when he was frustrated. "Fine," he snapped, "then you stay here and _I'll_ go after her."

John let out a slight chuckle, earning a glare from Andor. "And you think that'll be enough to keep me from escaping?"

Andor strode over to him, posture bristling with anger. Thankfully he'd laid the gun aside on a table several minutes ago. Otherwise, the gesture would've been much more threatening. "You think it won't be?" he sneered.

John met his gaze evenly as he pointed out, "Two of you weren't enough to keep Donna from escaping."

Andor opened his mouth to argue, but Martin grunted, "Enough. We're staying here and that's it." John felt a rush of relief, which was quickly doused as Martin added, "But we can't just let her go roaming the streets. I have a friend who operates near Baker Street. I'll call him up, see if he can't catch Ms. Noble, and bring her back." He looked over at John as he added nastily, "Bring her back dead or alive."

**SCENEBREAK**

Donna had been traveling with the Doctor for a good few months now. And when you traveled with the Doctor, that meant running. An awful lot of running. She was used to that by now. It had taken some getting used to, of course, but by now she figured she could run with the best of them.

But walking for an hour, with ropes biting into her wrists, legs that were sore from laying down for hours on end, ankles sore from being tied up for so long, constantly looking over her shoulder to see if get captors were after her, was starting to get old fast.

Almost an hour later and her entire body was starting to feel stiff. It had felt fine at first. The adrenaline and fear of getting captured had kept her going. But as she kept walking, she was starting to feel the aches and bruises she must have gained by falling down when they had first knocked her out. Mostly, it was her legs. She'd been stuck laying down, mostly in one position, for however many hours. And the first thing she'd done was get up and run. Now all this walking wasn't helping either. Her legs, especially the one she'd been laying on when she was on her side, were really getting stiff and sore.

“I really hope I find those two,” she growled to herself, pushing her way through the crowd who seemed determined to stop and stare at her bound wrists, “if only just to rip their heads off for getting me into this.” She didn't mean it, of course, but worry was making her gruff. It had been an hour since she'd left John with their captors, and walking by herself had given her plenty of time to think things over. What if they'd killed him because they'd tried to escape? That one bloke, Andor, had seemed pretty trigger-happy. It wasn't too much of a leap to assume that he might've gotten pissed at John and decided to finish the job early. She felt cold at the thought. Had she left the man to die?

Donna let out a slow breath. She couldn't think about that. She had to focus. Find the Doctor, find Sherlock. And hope to God or whatever the hell was out there that she wasn't too late.

She could've about kissed someone when she finally saw the sign for Baker Street. _Finally!_ she thought to herself. Now she'd finally be able to do something to help instead of just wandering around London like an idiot. With a sudden renewal of energy, she dashed up the street, finally coming upon the building that held 221B. She struggled a little bit with the door, loudly cursing her captors for tying her hands together. “Come on, come on,” she grumbled as she tried to get a grip on the door handle.

Once she had the door open, she hurried up the stairs into the building, heading up to 221B. “Sherlock! Doctor, you up there!” Silence. Donna tried to push back the flicker of uncertainty as she tried to get the door open. The door finally swung open, but it was dark and gloomy inside, and no one was there.

Donna glanced around anxiously. “Oi. Either of you in here? Anyone in here?” The lack of answer was bad enough, but worse was the realization that people weren't the only thing the flat was missing. The TARDIS was gone too.

The companion's excitement slowly deflated. She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, letting her head droop against the wooden frame with a sigh. This had been her only real idea about how to find the Doctor. Now what the hell was she supposed to do? No Time Lord, no TARDIS, and no way to find either of them.

After a few moments, she stood up straight, shaking herself slightly. “Sod this,” she said firmly to herself, “I'm getting the cops.” If the Time Lord was off gallavanting through the cosmos to save her, that was his problem. John needed help now.

Dialing 999 would be a real chore with her hands all tied together though, so first thing to do would be to get the ropes off. She made her way into what she assumed was the kitchen, although at first sight it looked more like some kind of science lab. Beakers and test tubes were strewn about the counters, along with several stains that Donna figured she was better off not inspecting more closely. Altogether, pretty much how she would've expected any kitchen owned by Sherlock Holmes to look.

After a bit of searching, Donna finally located the drawer where the knives were kept. She yanked it open eagerly. Before she could do more than grab a small butter knife in one hand, a door creaked behind her. The companion turned around just in time to see a strange man entering the room - a knife in hand.

When he realized she'd seen him, he lunged immediately at her, taking her by surprise. She managed to weakly block his arm with both of hers, ducking away from the blade. He managed to grab her hair with his other hand, yanking her head back. "Hold still!" he hissed.

"Screw you, mate!" she snapped in response. Donna brought her knee up to hit him hard in the groin. He staggered back with a little gasp of pain, letting go of her hair, which is all she needed. She bolted for the door, rushing past and slamming it behind her.

The companion raced down the stairs and out the front door onto the open streets of London. She picked a direction at random and ran. Of course, now she had no phone and no blade to get these blasted ropes off with, but she couldn't go back, so she just ran.

Out of nowhere, a hand snaked out and grabbed her arm, yanking her towards them. They wrapped one arm around her midsection and, before she protest, the other hand around her mouth. A rough, fingerless leather glove closed over her mouth, the surface chafing against her skin. Donna wasn't facing her new captor, so she couldn't see who it was, but that didn't stop her from shouting plenty of abuse into the hand that was gagging her.

"Shut it!" her captor hissed quietly. He pulled her back into an alley, against the wall, watching the street beyond.

Donna froze when the man who'd come after her in Baker Street stumbled past. He looked around furtively for a moment, but since Donna and her captor were against the wall in the shadows, he couldn't see them. He moved on with a frustrated grunt, until he was out of sight entirely.

Only after he’d been gone for several moments did her captor begin to move again, drawing her further and further into the alley. Donna kicked and struggled, but she wasn’t really in a good position to be fighting. He was holding her too close to him to let her really land any sort of good blows. But she kept on wriggling and struggling and screaming obscenities into the glove over her mouth.

After a few moments, he brought her to a street corner, where a surprisingly familiar face waited. Her captor uncovered her mouth, but she didn’t shout this time, only let out a confused little, “Minnie?”

Her grandfather’s old friend whirled around to face them with a little squeak of surprise. Donna’s captor let go of her waist and put a gloved hand on one shoulder. “’s this her?” he asked roughly. Donna was finally able to get a good look at him. He was dressed in several drab, unkempt layers, with a dirty old cap and fingerless leather gloves. He was unshaven, with a strong jaw and surprisingly pale eyes.

“Yes, yes that’s her! Donna!” Minnie pulled Donna into a tight hug, stroking the back of her head and making soothing shushing noises. Donna let her for once, still too stunned to say anything. What on Earth was Minnie doing here? And why had her captor brought her to her?

Minnie pulled back and held Donna back at arm’s length. “Are you alright dear? Your grandad’s been worried sick!”

That just added to the confusion. “Grandad? Wha-?” She shook her head. “Nevermind. Listen, I need to find the Doctor. Have you seen a big blue box hanging around anywhere. Y’know, like one of those old police boxes or whatever?”

Minnie shrugged. “Don’t know about that then, dearie. But your grandad’s at Scotland Yard. He said if any of us saw you, we were to bring you straight to the Yard.” She glared irritably at Donna’s captor as she added, “Didn’t know we’d be working with some sort of homeless help though. You could’ve been a bit gentler about bringing her here!”

“Couldn’t let her scream for help,” the man said unconcernedly. He turned away, but before he could walk away, Donna remembered something. She wasn’t positive, but she thought she’d heard Sherlock saying something about a homeless network he employed.

“Wait!” she called out. He paused, turning to look almost boredly at her. She hesitated before asking, “Do you work for Sherlock Holmes?”

All she got in response was a dull, “Yes.” The homeless man shuffled away, leaving Donna alone with Minnie. She still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. Her granddad was with Sherlock? Was the Doctor with them too? Why were they at Scotland Yard, and why was Wilf with them? And what about her mother? She wasn’t entirely sure what all was happening, but she finally had a lead on where Sherlock and the Doctor was.

Donna turned to Minnie and said firmly, “Alright, we need to get to Scotland Yard.”

**SCENEBREAK**

The Doctor let out a long sigh. He had been watching the screen for what felt like ages, but he still hadn’t been able to find the second car. They’d had both Sherlock’s homeless network and Wilf’s friends out looking for the tan car, but so far, they hadn’t heard anything. It was starting to get truly frustrating. Sitting around doing nothing in 221B was bad enough, but sitting around doing nothing in a police station, with people around him all bustling and doing things, was almost worse.

Sergeant Donnovan made her way over to where the Doctor was seated, leaning against the desk in front of him with her arms crossed. “So, am I going to get that explanation now?” she asked. She was curious, but there was still that suspicion in her tone.

The Time Lord let out a snort. “Which one?”

She chuckled. “Good point. Alright, the box then. What’s with the box?”

Of course, that had been the question he really hadn’t wanted to get into. It was bad enough that Torchwood and UNIT knew about him and about aliens. They had been built and trained expressly for the purpose of dealing with the knowledge of aliens. Having Scotland Yard finding out about a very powerful Time and Space machine that blundered into their midst wasn’t really something the Doctor was looking forward to.

The Doctor sighed, debating what exactly to tell her. He had to say something. “It’s mine,” he said finally. “My… spaceship.”

She blinked at him. “You’re bonkers,” she said flatly.

“You’re the one who saw a police box materialize out of thin air,” the Doctor pointed out without interest. If she was just going to deny it, he wasn’t too bothered. He’d be better off just paying attention to the screen.

Donnovan looked at him curiously, tipping her head slightly as she contemplated him. “Alright, so what, does that make you some sort of alien or something?”

“Yep,” he said bluntly. He glanced at her again to see how she was taking it. She still seemed stressed and suspicious, but she didn’t seem to disbelieve him. The Doctor let out a slow sigh, knowing he’d have to say more to placate her. “I’m what’s called a Time Lord, that’s my ship the TARDIS, Sherlock’s been living on my ship this whole time, yes he’s not dead, no I didn’t have anything to do with that, he faked his death on his own.”

“Why?”

“Moriarty,” he told her grimly. Her gaze darkened. “Do you believe me?”

She sighed. “I don’t know who you are or what the hell’s up with that weird box. And I definitely don’t like Sherlock Holmes.” The sergeant paused, then added more firmly, “But if Moriarty is the reason one of ours is missing, I want him caught.” Donnovan stood, turning and walking off, calling over her shoulder, “Keep working.”

The Doctor was about to return his attention to the screen when a voice called out, “Spaceman! Stick insect!”

**SCENEBREAK**

Sherlock had been discussing something about the area he’d encircled on the map with one of the detectives when he heard a familiar voice call out, “Spaceman! Stick insect!” He turned with surprise to see an older woman leading Donna into room. Well, Donna wasn’t being led so much as she was pushing her way in and practically dragging the older woman in behind her. Loud and brash as ever.

The Doctor ran right to her side, pulling Donna into a tight hug. Wilf and Sylvia joined him, all sharing a big, tight hug with the ginger companion. Sherlock was slightly more composed, slowly making his way over, inclining his head to Donna with a slight smirk. “I hope you didn’t just talk them all to death to escape,” he snarked.

The Time Lord glared at him slightly over his shoulder, but Donna just rolled her eyes. “Ah, come on you stuffy old jerk.” He let out a slight yelp of surprise as she pulled him into the hug. The detective let himself be hugged on all sides without much of a struggle. He didn’t show it, but he was honestly glad Donna was safe.

When everyone pulled back, the Doctor asked, “What happened? How did you get out?”

Sherlock, more inclined to ask the actually important questions, asked, “Where were you being kept? Could you take us there?”

Donna held up her hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. One at a time! Alright, two things.” She held up two fingers to demonstrate, which also displayed her bound wrists. “Number one; someone better get something to get these bloody ropes off my wrists before I strangle something.” Sherlock noticed a detective scurry off in the corner of his eye, probably to get some sort of knife or scizzors. “Two; Yes, I can lead you there, but we have to hurry. Before we escaped, I heard them talking. They’ve been given 24 hours to let you find-”

“Yes, we already know,” Sherlock said irritably. “Moriarty left a little parting video to tell us how the game works. But it’s fine, we’ve got 20 hours left.”

“Not for John, you don’t,” Donna snapped. “I heard ‘em talking, and the one guy’s pretty trigger-happy. He wanted to kill us early even before we tried to escape. God knows what happened after I left. We have to get there now!”

Sherlock felt something in his chest tighten and grow cold at what she had said. It was true, he wasn't particularly good at emotions or friendship or acting like a real human being. But he did have friends, and the few he had, he cared for, more fiercely and deeply than he even wanted to admit to himself. He had learned that during the Year, when he'd seen the cold, lifeless face of the late Dr. Watson.

Sherlock had lost John Watson once. And now, after all that time, he'd just gotten him back. He'd die a hundred times over before he let John die again.

In a voice that was hard and angry and cold all at once, he told Donna, "Take us to him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun! Will they reach John in time? Will Molly and Greg find a way out? Stay tuned for next week's episode!
> 
> *cough* Yeah, sorry, I'm tired, ignore me. I'll post more soon.


	34. Return of a Hero: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna, Sherlock, and the Doctor go to John's aid.

     “We can't wait much longer.”

     “I know, Andor. Not much longer.”

     John pulled experimentally against the ropes on his wrists and ankles. As his captors talked, he thought to himself, _Sherlock, you better get down here soon. I don't think I have very long._

**SCENEBREAK**

     Donna looked at the map Sherlock was showing her, the one in Scotland Yard that he'd marked with the area the companions could possibly be in. “I'm not sure exactly where it is on a map,” she admitted. “I didn't get a chance to look at any street signs or anything, I was running pretty fast.”

     “So nothing useful then,” Sherlock snarked.

     The companion glared at him. “I'm sorry, were you the one who just escaped from people trying to kill you? No? Then shut it!” She turned back to the map and added, “It has to be somewhere close to Fleet Street, 'cause that's where I ended up after I was running for a bit.”

     Sherlock looked her up and down for a quick moment, then pulled out a pen and circled off an area surrounding Fleet Street. Donna didn't know how he'd figured out the area size, but she figured it probably had something to do with guessing how far she could've run before getting tired when pumped up with adrenaline. Once he was done, he looked at her and asked urgently, “Describe the area. The house, the street, anything you can remember.”

     Donna thought back to her escape, the blurry memories as she ran for her life. “It was pretty run-down,” she recalled. “A bunch of small places all pushed together. The outside of the house was a sort of bluish, but chipped, like the paint was starting to peel off at parts.”

     Sherlock's eyes widened with shock. He didn't speak for several moments. Donna looked at him uncertainly. “Sherlock?”

     He shook his head. “Did the house's top left window on the front have a long crack running diagonally across?” His voice was sharp and urgent, more than before.

     “Umm... yeah, I think so. Why?”

     The detective let out a slow breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened his eyes again, there was a cold glint in them, a hard anger that made Donna flinch back. “I know where they are.”

     Without another word, he turned and strode toward the TARDIS. Donna and the Doctor exchanged a baffled glance, then followed him. Sherlock shoved the TARDIS door in without missing and beat and strode right up to the console. He began plugging in coordinates without looking up at anyone. Out of the corner of her eye, Donna noticed Wilf and the older lady she'd seen him with before watching from just outside the door.

     “Sherlock?” the Doctor asked. The detective ignored him. The Time Lord's voice grew firm as he repeated, “Sherlock, where are they?”

     The detective paused, letting out a slow breath. Donna crossed over to him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Sherlock, tell us what's happening,” she requested softly. Whatever she had told them, it had made the detective even more terrified. She could see the fear he was keeping hid just under the surface. In the same soothing tone, she asked, “Where are they keeping John?”

     Sherlock finally opened his eyes, looking up to meet Donna's calm gaze. She could see frantic fear in his eyes, even as he kept his voice deliberately calm. “It was the first case I ever worked. A boy named Carl Powers was killed at a swimming event. They said he drowned, but I knew something was off. And it turned out I was right. But I didn't find out until years later.”

     “Years?” Donna repeated with a raised eyebrow. “Yeesh, how old were you?”

     “Eight.”

     The companion shook her head, sighing, “You really were always like this.”

     The detective's tense posture broke a little, and he gave the tiniest smirk of amusement. It faded as he became serious again. “When I was investigating, I tried to visit his house. I snuck inside to try and see if there were any hints there of how he died, but his mother caught me and chased me out of the house.”

     Donna couldn't help but feel amused at the thought of a young Sherlock snooping around some poor sod's house with an overly large magnifying glass. But she kept her expression solemn as she asked, “So what, you think that's where John and I were being kept?”

     He let out a harsh breath, eyes narrowing. “It always comes back to this. Ever since the beginning, Moriarty and I have been playing this game, back and forth across the years, even before I ever heard of him. Moriarty killed Carl Powers, Moriarty hired the cabbie, it was always Moriarty. I played the game without thinking about the consequences, because I was bored, because I was arrogant. And now, every time, John Watson gets hurt because of it.” His eyes turned hard again as he said, “He's practically shoving it in my face. Carl Power's house, where it all began. He's showing me just how much he can take away from me. To burn the heart out of me, as he so eloquently put it.”

     The ginger companion felt a rush of sympathy for the detective. She had been trapped for a little while with John, and while he'd been angry at Sherlock for lying about being dead, she could tell how much he cared about the detective. Sherlock had already made it clear how much he cared about John, so she could imagine how much he was worrying over John. It was almost like seeing the Doctor whenever Molly or herself was in trouble.

     She said softly, “Moriarty's dead, but John isn't. Focus on that. Let's just worry about getting him back.” As Sherlock's gaze met hers, she gave him a grin. “C'mon, stick insect, let's get to work.”

     The fear in Sherlock's eyes slowly began to fade, replaced by a steely determination. “Right.” He finished plugging in the coordinates, then turned to the Doctor and told him, “All yours.” The Time Lord gave him a short nod, then took over, starting up the TARDIS flight. Donna crossed over to the door, where Wilf and the other woman waited.

     “Should we come with and help?” Wilf asked.

     She tried to imagine her old granddad in a fight against her captors, but she knew it was too dangerous. “No, you stay here and keep working with the cops. We'll be back soon.”

     He nodded. “I understand. Stay safe, my girl.” She smiled back, hoping with everything she had that they'd be back soon with John safe in the TARDIS. Donna shut the door, then turned and headed back to the console, standing beside Sherlock. Together they watched as the Doctor finished the flight start-up. The TARDIS threw itself into flight, and as Donna clung onto the rail, she just hoped they weren't too late.

**SCENEBREAK**

     John was zoning out, leaning back against the chair with his eyes closed, when he heard it. It was faint, but he recognized it immediately. The _vworp, vworp_ that he'd heard in the flat earlier. That could only mean one thing. _Sherlock._

     The sound was faint, but it was getting louder. Andor and Martin would notice it soon. He needed to make sure their attention was on him for as long as possible. He didn't need either of them deciding to shoot him before Sherlock or one of the others could help him. There wasn't much he could do, but he had a bit of a plan. Hopefully enough.

     “So, Andor,” he began casually. The man looked over at him irritably. The gun was back in his hand, unfortunately. John kept a wary eye on it as he began inching his chair ever so slightly towards Martin. As he did, he asked, “What's your plan for when Sherlock shows up? Just shoot him point-blank is that it? Not a very smart plan. Because the thing about Sherlock is, he's a genius. He sees everything coming. And he's sure to have about two or three back-up plans for whatever you could possibly throw at him.”

     “I don't see how you could have a back-up plan for a bullet to the... what?” The TARDIS was now loud enough for them to hear. Andor and Martin both whipped around to see the TARDIS phasing in and out of sight, growing more and more solid.

     He was close enough to Martin now. John kicked out with the leg of the chair, slamming it into the leg of Martin's chair, sending him tipping forward. Andor looked at Martin and John to see what was happening, which is what John had been counting on. It distracted him long enough for the TARDIS to become totally solid, and the door to swing open.

     As Andor whirled to face the newcomers, raising his gun, Sherlock stepped out with a gun of his own pointed steadily at the criminal. Martin got slowly to his feet, but did nothing, just staring at the gun. Andor stayed still, glaring fiercely at Sherlock, a muscle in his jaw twitching, but unable to do much else. John felt an intense rush of relief at seeing Sherlock there, alive, really truly alive, and there to save the day again. Now that the anger was mostly gone, there was just the intense joy and relief of it all.

     Now they just had to get out of this alive.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Donna's eyebrows flew up in surprise as Sherlock pulled out a gun and aimed it coolly at Andor's head. The Doctor marched out from behind the console, exclaiming angrily, “Sherlock, where the hell'd you get that?”

     “Nicked it off Donovan,” he replied without looking away from Andor. “And before you launch into one of your anti-gun rants, I'm not carrying it around for kicks. I just brought a gun to a gun fight. Evening the stakes.” His voice turned hard as he added, “I'm only going to shoot if it's necessary. And it won't be if this gentleman here cooperates. Isn't that right?”

     Andor glared at him, cursing loudly under his breath. “We should've killed your friend when we had the chance,” he spat, venom dripping from his tone.

     “Be very grateful you didn't,” Sherlock replied in a low and dangerous tone.

     The second captor looked warily between Sherlock and Andor. “So, Mr. Holmes,” he said shakily, even as he carefully watched the gun situation. “I wasn't expecting the entrance. What the hell is that box thing?”

     “Oh, didn't you know?” Sherlock asked mockingly, a cold bite to his words. “That's the TARDIS, a time and space machine. That man there behind me is a centuries-old alien, the woman with him saved the world from the Adipose, and I'm the famous Sherlock Holmes who traveled through time to destroy Moriarty's network. So don't feel bad. You never stood a chance.”

     He didn't seem entirely convinced, but a glance at the TARDIS that had appeared out of nowhere had solidified it for him. “Andor, stand down,” he ordered wearily. “We're outnumbered.”

     “Good man,” Sherlock said coolly. Without looking away from Andor, he ordered, “Doctor, Donna, please untie Dr. Watson and make sure our friends here are incapacitated.”

     The Doctor and Donna exchanged a glance, then went off to do as Sherlock said. As the Time Lord crossed over to Andor, Donna hurried to John's side to undo his ropes. She knelt down and started untying his hands, looking up at him and smirking as she said, “Y'know, if you'd just escaped with me instead of sleeping on the job, we could've avoided all this work.”

     John chuckled, slipping his hand loose as the first bonds came off. “Well sorry if I wasn't very big on escaping after being knocked out.” Donna stood, about to cross over to untie his other hand. She was standing right behind him, leaning over his shoulder to reach his arm. Sherlock looked over at them with a small, relieved little smirk.

     He shouldn't have done that. The minute he looked away from Andor, the criminal turned his gun towards John and Donna and fired a shot. There was a feeling of being punched, then intense, burning pain. She heard someone call out her name before she stumbled forward onto her knees.

**SCENEBREAK**

     John flinched at the sound of a gunshot, but after a few moments, he realized the bullet hadn't hit him. Relief turned to shock when he saw Donna go pale.

     “Donna!” the Doctor called out, abandoning Andor to quickly hurry to her side. The man raised his gun again, but Sherlock stepped across the room and quickly disarmed him. John was shock at the look on Sherlock's face. There was a cold, hard anger there, a blaze of rage that the detective rarely showed. He didn't say a word as he took the gun from Andor, gave him a glare that clearly said _stay put,_ then made his way over to Donna's side.

     John felt a rush of anger, glaring at Andor as he worked to untie his other hand with the one that was already freed. He hadn't known Donna long, but they'd been stuck together for a few hours, and she'd come back to rescue him. He felt a sort of loyalty to her just for that.

     Once his hand was free, he was able to easily untie his feet. He stood and made his way to Donna's side. “Let me through,” he said calmly to the Doctor and Sherlock. Sherlock backed off as requested, but the Doctor looked at him uncertainly. “Doctor, please, I can help her,” he reminded the alien. “I'm a doctor. Let me help.” After a few moments, the Time Lord nodded and backed up, allowing the doctor to kneel beside Donna.

     The ginger woman was on her knees and one hand. The other arm was wrapped around her torso, her hand clutching at her other side. John could see blood welling on her shoulder of the arm she had wrapped around herself, the red pooling on her jacket. He couldn't tell if any major arteries had been hit. The doctor reached out and grabbed the hand not clutching her side, offering support at the same time as checking her pulse. “Come on Donna, how are you doing?” The doctor gave a quick nod to Sherlock, and the detective went off to secure Martin and Andor.

     Donna let out a slow, shaky breath. “I'm breathing. Ah hell, that hurts.” She glared up at Andor, raging, "You could have killed me you stupid, greedy son of a bitch! I'll bloody kill you when this is over!” The man in question looked a little surprised to see her so fiery after just being shot.

     Slowly, Donna started to try to stand, but John put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “No, stay down for now.”

     “I can stand,” Donna protested irritably, even as she allowed herself to be sat back down. “It's not like my legs were shot.”

     “Until I know how badly you've been injured, it's best that you stay on the ground,” John explained calmly. “I don't want to risk making it worse by having you move around.”

     For a moment, Donna looked like she was going to protest. After a moment, she grumbled, “Fine, but we can't just sit around here all day. Molly's out there somewhere. I'm not going to sit back while she's in trouble.”

     “That'll depend on how badly you've been shot,” John told her firmly, although he was pretty impressed with how well she seemed to be feeling. “Tell me, how bad is the pain? On a scale of one to ten?”

     The woman shrugged, and immediately flinched. “Ah. That wasn't a good plan. Um. Six, maybe? It hurts like flippin' hell, but not like I'm going to die.”

     John nodded. “Good.” He couldn't tell how bad the wound was, but at least she was conscious and wasn't panicking. Of course, that could be due to adrenaline. More pain could come later. He turned to the Doctor, who was hovering from a few feet away, and asked, “Do you have any sort of stretcher or something?”

     The Doctor nodded. “In the TARDIS.” Giving Donna one last, worried glance, he hurried off into the box to fetch it.

     “Oi, I don't need a stretcher, I can walk,” the ginger woman protested irritably.

     “Like I said, I don't want to chance making the wound worse by having you walk around too much,” he explained. When she looked ready to argue again, he grasped her hand and said, “Listen, you helped save my life. Let me try to repay the favor, alright?”

     She hesitated, then sighed. “Fine.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     “No!” Molly pounded against the door, ramming her shoulder into it with everything she had. “I'm not giving up!”

     They had tried everything. All four screws, the metal grating, everything they had available to try and pry the door open. They'd been at it for almost two hours now. Nothing had made even the slightest bit of difference.

     “Molly, Molly stop!” Greg grabbed ahold of her arm, gently pulling her away from the door. When she turned to face him, he moved his hand to her shoulder, looking her in the eyes as he said, “This isn't helping. We can't panic. We have to keep our heads.”

     Molly could feel that fear boiling right under the surface, threatening to overwhelm her. But when she looked into Greg's eyes, even in the dim light, she could see some of her own fear in there. He was afraid too, he felt helpless and angry and desperate too. But they had to work together to get out of this. She had to keep it together, for him, and for herself.

     The companion took a few, deep breaths, willing the fear back down into the corner of her mind. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes, feeling significantly calmer. Still shaky, still terrified, but in control.

     But she still had no idea of how to get out of there. Grim hopelessness seized in her chest. The next gas attack could come at any moment. Who knew when the one to finish them would come?

     She was willing to try, but she just couldn't see a way out without help. And right now, she didn't know if she could depend on that.

     But it was her only hope. So against her own fears and distrust, she closed her eyes and sent out a silent prayer. _Doctor, please, we're going to die. Please help us. We don't have much longer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, some serious action in this chapter, and quite a few reveals. Yes, John and Donna were being kept in Carl Power's house. Yes, that was completely and utterly deliberate to further break Sherlock on Moriarty's part. It was meant to hit close to home, and remind him just how much Moriarty could effect and ruin his life.
> 
> And Donna got shot! I tried to make that as realistic as possible. I looked up some stuff online about gunshot wounds and procedures by paramedics and what have you, but of course, I'm not an expert, and I only did a short amount of research, so correct me if I got anything wrong. We'll see how badly Donna's been hurt next chapter.
> 
> Speaking of chapters, there should be either one or two parts left in this episode. I really hope there isn't more. After that, perhaps an interlude, and then onto more episodes, which I do have fully planned out at this point.


	35. Return of a Hero: Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor decides how to deal with Martin and Andor.

     After Donna was put on the stretcher and loaded into the TARDIS, the Doctor directed John toward the hospital wing and showed him how to use some of the more advanced equipment. Once that was done, the Time Lord waited outside the door of the blue box. Andor and Martin had their arms tied behind them by the same ropes that had been binding John, and they were glaring at him with varying degrees of fear and defiance. The Time Lord glared back, fury bubbling and burning inside, right under the surface. These men had kidnapped his companion, and now, they had attacked her. Her life could be in serious danger now because of them. She could be _dying_ and it was their fault. And Molly and Lestrade were still out there, and they could be dead for all he knew, and it was their fault.

     The Doctor heard the door behind him open, and someone lean against the TARDIS beside him. “What will you do with them?” Sherlock asked in a low voice.

     “I'm not sure yet.”

     The detective looked at him briefly. The Time Lord was surprised to see something other than the usual cold indifference there. “You're a better man than me, Doctor,” he said abruptly, causing the Doctor to look at him in surprise. “Let's keep it that way.”

     The Time Lord let out a slow breath. “I'm not so sure I am,” he warned the human.

     Sherlock gave a hollow little grin. “You took one look at Molly Hooper as she was and offered to show her the stars. I used her to my advantage when it suited me. Yes, you are.” With that, he turned and walked back into the TARDIS, the door clicking gently shut behind him, leaving the Time Lord with the humans at his mercy.

     He let out a sigh, leaning his head back against the TARDIS and closing his eyes. Molly Hooper. Of course that arrogant, too-clever detective had brought her up. Memories flashed in his mind of the three months they had spent on Earth, when he had been a human too eager to prove himself in battle. He could still remember Molly coming out of nowhere and forcing the rifle muzzle to the ground, saving the other soldier, but also saving him from becoming a killer. Again.

     Molly would want him to spare them. He knew that. No matter how much she seemed to have changed, she was still the Molly Hooper who had gone to quite impressive lengths to save him from his own darkness. And right now, she needed his help, in more ways than one. That was more important than focusing his time and energy dishing out whatever these pathetic humans deserved. Molly was more important.

     The Doctor opened his eyes, looking once again at the two men in front of him. Without a word he strode forward and grasped the shoulder of the one who had shot Donna, pulling him towards the TARDIS despite his protests. He shoved him somewhat unceremoniously into the box, turning to do the same with the other man, but there was no need. He was following of his own will, giving the Doctor a wary glance before stepping through the door into the TARDIS.

     Both men let out gasps and whimpers at the sight of the TARDIS interior, murmuring their reactions, but the Doctor didn't pay any mind. He made his way to the console and started the TARDIS flight up. He knew what he had to do next, and they better be grateful that this was all he was going to do to them.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Wilf had been sitting in front of the computer showing the security footage, doing his best to analyze it, when the familiar _vworpp, vworpp,_ rang through the police station. He felt a rush of relief. “Donna's back!” he called out to Sylvia, who was sitting on a chair at another detective's desk, and Mrs. Hudson, who was talking to one of the detectives.

     Everyone gathered to watch the blue box appear, with a noticeable lack of guns this time, Wilf was pleased to see. When the door opened, two men were shoved roughly out, falling onto the ground in front of the TARDIS. They had their hands bound behind their back, Wilf noted with alarm.

     “What the hell?” Sergeant Donovan crouched by the men, but before she could do anything, the door to the TARDIS swung open, the Doctor standing behind it. Wilf started to call out to him, but the cold look in the alien's eyes stopped him.

     “Those are the men that kidnapped John Watson and Donna Noble,” he informed Donovan coolly. “I assume you can have them arrested?”

     Donovan looked up at the Doctor with an outraged expression. “What, you just dump 'em here and expect me to arrest them? I need some evidence, for starters.”

     “Oh, I think you'll find they'll be more than happy to talk about it,” the alien said, glancing down at the men.

     Wilf followed his glance. The men was staring up at the TARDIS and the Doctor with fear in their eyes. “What the hell is that box thing?” one asked in a thick accent. “That's bloody unnatural, that is!” A glare from the Doctor silenced them.

     After a moment, the alien looked up at Donovan again. “John and Donna will tell you what you need to know once they're able to. For now, could you take care of these two?” He was doing his best to be polite, but Wilf could see the clench in his jaw, the tight anger in his eyes, and knew that he was holding back a fierce anger at the men who had harmed his companions.

     Donovan hesitated, but after glancing between the TARDIS and the men, she shook her head and sighed. “Whatever. Lestrade better sort this out when we find him.” She turned to the other detectives, snapping, “You two, get them to holding.”

     As the crowd around the TARDIS dispersed, Wilf pushed his way to the front, coming up in front of the Doctor. Something the Doctor had said had been bugging him. “You said John and Donna would talk when they were able to?” he said carefully.

     The Time Lord's anger melted away as he looked at Wilf, leaving a very tired, worried-looking alien in it's place. “There were some problems rescuing John,” he said wearily.

     Wilf felt something in his chest tighten in fear. A hand was laid on his shoulder, warm and comforting. He looked back to see Mrs. Hudson there, a warm smile on her face, which he returned. He didn't know the landlady well, but he was starting to appreciate her company with all that was going on. Especially now. After a moment, he turned to the Doctor, asking quietly, “Donna?”

     The alien sighed, passing a hand over his face. He turned and walked back into the TARDIS, the open door an invitation. Wilf and Mrs. Hudson followed him in, Sylvia trailing after them, unusually silent. The Doctor leaned over with both hands on the console in front of him, expression closed off. “John's with her now, and Sherlock. I don't know how bad it is.”

     “Shouldn't you be in there?” Wilf turned to see Sylvia glaring at the Time Lord, but there wasn't as much fire behind it as before. It was a tired, fearful sort of anger. “You're the Doctor after all, can't you help her?”

     The Doctor gave her a weary, empty half-smile. “Wrong sort of doctor,” he told her sadly. “John Watson is an army doctor. He's seen worse than this, and here in the TARDIS he's got access to more advanced technology than he'd ever find on Earth. If anyone can save your daughter, it's him.”

     “Save her?” Wilf repeated in alarm. “You think it's that serious?”

     Before the Doctor could respond, a voice called out from the hallway, “No, not life-threatening.” Sherlock came out of the hallway into the console room, leading against the hallway arch with his arms crossed. “John's working on it now. The bullet passed mostly through muscle and skin, and didn't hit any major arteries.” Wilf felt his chest loosen, and a fierce rush of relief. Judging by the Doctor's expression, he was feeling the same.

     The Time Lord nodded. “Right. Sherlock, can you take them back to see her, if John says it's alright?”

     “Of course,” the detective said drily. “Come on. Donna could use someone new to yell at.” Even as he complained, Wilf could see his own relief echoed in the detective's eyes. With that, he turned and started down the hallway, Sylvia and Mrs. Hudson following after him. Sherlock turned back, looking questioningly at Wilf. “You coming?”

     “I'll catch up,” Wilf replied. The detective shrugged, then continued down the hallway. Once they were out of earshot, Wilf turned back to the Time Lord, who was leaning over the console once again. Wilf took a few steps toward him, asking cautiously, "Are you alright, sir?"

     The Doctor let out a heavy sigh. "Every time, I manage to put the people around me in danger. Every time."

     "Yeah, but Donna's fine now," Wilf reminded him.

      "That was luck," the Doctor said dismissively. "It could've been worse. She could've died. And it would have been my fault."

     "Now hold on a minute," Wilf said firmly. The Doctor looked up at him with that same, bleak look in his eyes, but he was listening. "What would Donna say if she heard you saying such talk? It's not your fault some bloke shot her. You don't have control over him, or over her for that matter. It was her choice to come with you, her choice to put herself in danger to help John, not yours. She doesn't need you feeling guilty every time she gets hurt just because you were in the room."

     The Doctor listened, his expression calming somewhat. "I suppose you're right."

     "Donna would certainly think so. She'd lecture you into next week if she heard you talking like that." The Doctor let out a chuckle at that, expression becoming warm at the thought of his companion. Wilf grinned in response. "All right. Is that sorted then?

     The alien's expression darkened again. "It's not just Donna. Molly's still out there too."

     "We'll find her."

     "But we may not find her in time. And if we do, then what? Things will only get worse."

     Wilf 's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

     The Doctor sighed. Wilf was shocked to see how old he looked, the sadness in his eyes seeming ancient. "Molly's been through some hard times recently. She had to fight this sort of battle, sort of, for a year. I was trapped, I couldn't help her, she had to do it on her own. And she did, she did it brilliantly. She saved the world. And after it was over, she seemed fine, and I thought that was it. The war was over, the battle was won and all that. But she's started to change. She's been avoiding me. And it's not just that. I can see it in her eyes, the way she's been acting, she's hurting. And for the life of me, I don't know what would help her and what would only make it worse."

     Wilf listened with growing sympathy. He could see that the alien had been worrying over this for quite some time. There was a fear in his eyes, but also a resignation. He couldn't help but wonder how many humans had traveled with the Doctor so far, and how many goodbyes he'd had to say. Was that was he was afraid of? Another goodbye, and all because he hadn't been able to help this Molly when she most needed it?

     He cleared his throat. “Have you tried talking to her about it?”

     The alien shook his head. “I wanted to give her space. I didn't think she'd want to be reminded of it.”

     “Maybe,” Wilf allowed, “but she probably feels like you've forgotten it ever happened.” The Time Lord looked at him, but said nothing, letting him continue. “I served in a war before, Doctor. Did my duty to my country. And maybe it isn't the same as what your friend went through. But I know that when I came back, I didn't want to talk about what I'd seen over there.”

     The Doctor looked at him with a weary sort of interest. “Was it guilt?” he asked. Wilf wasn't surprised he asked that. He could see plenty of it in the Doctor's eyes. He seemed to thrive on guilt.

     But that hadn't been his case. “No. I did my duty to Queen and country. Never killed a man, and proud of it. I did my part. But just because I didn't do anything to be ashamed of didn't stop me from seeing horrible things. The kind of things you don't want to bring back home with you. You don't want to talk about it, because it'll only upset the people around you. So you convince yourself that you can just forget about it, and that'll make everything better. But you end up bottling it up, and letting it grow, just getting worse and worse in the back of your mind.” The old man smiled. “I was lucky. I had people who helped me before it got too bad. So yeah, maybe your friend doesn't want to talk. But you should at least let her know that you're there if she ever does want to talk. It's a start.”

     The Time Lord looked at Wilf almost oddly, like he was seeing him for the first time. It was a look that mixed respect and guilt and relief. Wilf wasn't sure what to make of the alien's expression, so he just waited for him to speak. After several moments, the Doctor said, “You're a remarkable man, Wilfred Mott.”

     Wilf brushed it off. “Nah, I'm just a rambling old man. I get it right sometimes though.”

     The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “I'm older than you are,” he with amusement.

     The old man blinked. He looked the alien up and down. To all appearances, the Doctor looked to be in his thirties. He certainly had the face of a young man. “Get away,” he scoffed.

     “I'm nine hundred and three.”

     Wilf gaped at him. “What, really though?”

     “Yeah.”

     Wilf really had to do a double-take at that one. Nine hundred and three? How could he possibly be that old? How could anyone be that old, period? They'd go mad from seeing too much. But then he looked in the alien's eyes again. That ancient look about the Time Lord's eyes, there it was. He understood now. The guilt and the fear and the acting old beyond his years wasn't because he was alien. It was because he was old, and had seen and lost too much. Wilf had already wondered earlier how many humans the Doctor had traveled with and lost. That number had grown much larger now, which meant more loss than he could ever hope to understand. No wonder the Doctor was so afraid of losing those around him.

     He let out a low whistle. “Nine hundred years. We must look like insects to you.” Insects with short life spans, so easily lost. Is that how he saw Donna? Just another little life that would eventually run out?

     The Doctor smiled again, but this time it held more warmth, and even hope. “I think you look like giants,” he said. He gave Wilf a grateful grin. “Thanks for listening to an old Time Lord. You've given me a lot to think about.”

     Wilf smiled. “Anytime, sir.”

     With that, he turned and started down the hallway where Sherlock and the others had gone.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Doctor watched Donna's grandfather disappear down the hallway, thinking over what the old man had said. Maybe he was right. Maybe staying silent had only hurt Molly more.

     He straightened, jaw set in determination. It didn't matter. He couldn't change what he'd already done. But he could do everything he could from now on to help Molly. She deserved that much from him, after all she'd done for him.

     But first they had to find her.

     The Time Lord crossed back over to the door and out of the TARIDS. A few of the detectives looked up as he re-entered the police station, but returned to their work after a few moments. Good. Let them stay focused on finding Molly and Lestrade.

     He made his way over to the computer where the security camera footage was displayed. As he sat down in front of the screen, he thought to himself, _C'mon, I know you two are out there somewhere. Where are you, Molly?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 4:30 AM and I'm freaking tired, so this is going to be a short author's notes. Basically, I really wanted this episode to be 6 parts long at the max, but it looks like it might have to be 7 parts long. I'm going to try to jam everything into the next part, but I might not be able to. So if there ends up being a Part 7, it'll likely be a short one.
> 
> And I'm sorry about the end of the chapter. It was late, I was tired, I wanted to get this done, hence the sucky writing.
> 
> Also, yes, I grabbed that exchange about the Doctor's age from "The End of Time." My reason for doing so is because I won't be including "The End of Time" in my series, because as I already said, the Master's ring is gone, so he won't be returning. But I wanted to include that exchange because I found it so cute, kinda like I did with Molly reciting the "He's like fire and ice and rage" bit from "Human Nature" in "Last of the Time Lords" instead. See, I promised I'd include Wilf and Doctor adorableness even without "The End of Time!"
> 
> Now, I'm going to get 3 1/2 hour's sleep before class. Later all.


	36. Return of a Hero: Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for Molly and Lestrade continues.

     Wilf awoke with a start. For a moment, he had no idea where he was, or how he'd gotten there. Hadn't he just been in the police station with the Doctor?

     Then he remembered. He was in a spare room in the TARDIS. The search for the second car had started to drag on late into the night, so the Doctor had offered him, Mrs. Hudson, and Sylvia rooms on the TARDIS for the night. Wilf had stayed up as late as he could to be helpful, but in the end, he'd taken the Doctor's offer.

     As he began to sit up, a light on the ceiling turned on, letting him see the room for the first time. Last night, he had been dead tired, and the room had been dark. He hadn't been in the mood to look around. But now, he looked around the room with confusion and no short amount of awe. The walls and ceilings were a warm salmon, the same color as the walls in his home. For that matter, all the furniture, the bed and the dressers and everything else, and even the layout of the room, were all either from his room or what he would prefer his room to look like. It wasn't his room at home, but it felt like his. It felt comfortable. The best part had to be the window that stretched all the way across one wall. Instead of showing a backyard or a wall or something usual like that, it showed space. Just a window-view into outer space. Wilf felt a thrill of wonder at the stars and galaxies and colors that seemed close enough to touch

     Wilf remembered the Doctor mentioning that his ship was sentient and to ask her for directions around the hallways if he needed to, but he hadn't expected something like this. He couldn't help but feel touched at the gesture. As he crossed over to the door, he put his hand briefly on the door frame, giving it a light pat. “Thanks,” he said warmly. A warm-sounding _hum_ echoed in the room, making him grin in delight. Aliens and time travel and living space ships. How could life get any better?

     Once he was out of the room and into the hallways again, it only took a minute or two of wandering before he found himself in the console room. No one was in there, so he made his way to the front door and pulled it open.

     They were still parked in Scotland Yard, he was relieved to see. Detectives were milling about, working at their desks or talking in small groups. Judging by the light coming in through the window, it was late morning. He felt his stomach clench. Only a few hours left then.

     Wilf noticed the Doctor and Sherlock sitting behind a computer a bit away, Mrs. Hudson near them with a cup of coffee in hand. He made his way over to them, calling out, “Any luck?”

     The Doctor looked up, looking haggard and grim. Wilf had a feeling he hadn't slept at all last night. “Not exactly,” he said wearily.

     “We found the car,” Sherlock explained, “But there's a hitch. It's been given a shimmer.”

     “Shimmer?” Wilf repeated with confusion.

     Sherlock waved his hand dismissively. “It's a visual cloak of sorts, a hologram that lays over and object, only a bit more complicated. It's alien technology. An alien can wear it and appear human. Apparently, they've rigged it to cloak the car at intervals between security cameras. In one camera's view, it'll appear to be a red convertible, by the time the next camera picks it up, it's a blue minivan. It's impossible to track.”

     Wilf could see the fear in the Doctor's eyes, and in Sherlock's as well. Time was running out for their friends. He didn't know how he could possibly help, but he did the best to muster a reassuring smile. “We'll find them,” he assured the travelers. The Doctor gave a weak smile back, but Sherlock ignored him completely, turning his attention back to the screen.

     “Grandad!” He turned to see Donna and John coming out of the lounge room, both with coffee mugs in hand. Donna's arm was in a sling, but she was smiling and walking.

     Wilf crossed over to her, pulling her into a gentle one-armed hug. As he pulled back, he asked, “How's my girl feeling today?”

     “Better,” Donna assured him. “Still wish I could give those bastards who shot me something to think about, but nevermind that.” Her smile faded, replaced by an expression of worry. “Anything new about finding Molly?”

     He shook his head. “Sorry sweetheart.” Donna and John shared a worried glance, then made their way over to Sherlock and the Doctor. Wilf watched them for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt. His Donna was safe now, but their other friends were still in danger. If they didn't find them soon, they weren't going to make it. They didn't have very long.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly knew they didn't have very long. She couldn't tell how long they'd been in the cell; it felt like hours, maybe a day, she couldn't tell in the darkness. The gas had come three more times since that first hit, each time leaving them more weak and drained than the last. She knew that if the gas came a fifth time, they weren't going to live through it.

     She was currently sitting on the ground, leaning heavily back against the door of the cell. Greg was beside her; she could hear his ragged breathing. Her own chest felt like there were a thousand needles stabbing into it every time she took a breath, her throat felt like someone had rubbed it all over with sandpaper. Her whole body felt sort of heavy, except for her head, which was eerily light. She knew that unconsciousness wasn't far off. After that...

     “Molls?” A hand brushed against hers in the darkness. Even though every movement sent shooting pain through her chest, she entwined her fingers around his, gripping his hand as tightly as she could manage.

     “Yeah, Greg?”

     “Thanks for being here.”

     Molly let out a raspy chuckle, immediately regretting it as her throat clenched in agony. “Not like I had a choice. Neither of us did.”

     She heard him shift slightly, but she couldn't bother to look over at him. “You know what I mean,” he said softly. “Thanks for letting me be a part of all this.”

     The companion sighed. “Maybe if I hadn't, you wouldn't be dying with me now.”

     “Probably not,” Greg admitted. “But we all have to go sometime.” His hand gripped hers, his thumb rubbing softly against the back of her hand. Molly was surprised at the gesture, but she certainly didn't mind it.

     Molly closed her eyes. She wanted to object, say they were going to make it out, but she didn't have it in her. They could barely move, how were they going to survive this? She didn't want to lie to him, or to herself.

     Better to enjoy the moments they had left, and keep the fear and dark thoughts at bay a while longer.

**SCENEBREAK**

     “There has to be something we missed!”

     “Like what?” Sherlock snapped. “We can't track the car. It's impossible. You're the one who pointed out the shimmer. You're the one who said you could see through them, can't you tell which car it is?”

     The Doctor shook his head. “Not over camera, and not with the kind of quality recording we have. But that's not what I meant.” He pulled up a London map on the screen, using a drawing program to encircle the area Sherlock had indicated earlier. “Come on, Sherlock, let's do this your way. Deduce where they went.”

     Sherlock glared at him, snarking, “Sure, I'll just pull new evidence out of the air to deduce.”

     “We _have_ new evidence. We know more now. Anything, Sherlock, anything we've learned since we started. Can you think of anything?”

     “Fine!” Sherlock whirled away from him for a moment, pacing slightly. “Well, we know we were right, there were two sets of kidnappers, and Molly and Greg were taken together. I asked Andor and Martin, and they said they were paid a rather large amount to kidnap them by Moriarty's network, but they never actually met Moriarty himself. Apparently the network was very specific about where to bring them.”

     The Doctor shook his head. “Yes, but those two were thugs with guns. This is different.” He pulled up the security footage again, gazing at the car with the shimmer. “The shimmer, the knock-out blast wave, they're all alien technology. Way more than you could just scrounge up in a few months from what falls to Earth. Whoever had this has had it for a while, and knows what to do with it.”

     Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “You think aliens took them?”

     The Time Lord hesitated. “Maybe, but I doubt it. Moriarty would've wanted to make this a fair game. Well, you know what I mean. Besides, if they were aliens, they would've teleported them or taken them with a spaceship, they wouldn't have bothered putting a shimmer on a car. No, these are humans, humans who know how to use alien technology.”

     Sherlock froze, eyes widening. “It'll be somewhere you know, Doctor,” he realized aloud.

     The Doctor looked at him with a furrowed brow. “What do you mean?”

     The detective began speaking in rapid-fire, firing off his deductions in quick succession. “Moriarty sent John and Donna to Carl Power's house. He picked that to get to me. He, he wanted to remind me how close he could hit to home, how he could worm his way into my life and tear every part of it down. He's going to do the same to you, Doctor. Molly and Lestrade are being held somewhere you know.”

     Somewhere he knew? The Doctor's mind immediately start racing, searching through everywhere on Earth that he had visited. “It's got to be somewhere with alien technology stored up. Somewhere that has the technology to track the TARDIS. Somewhere –” He cut himself off abruptly, feeling something in his chest clench painfully.

     Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

     Of course. It had to be there. Of all the places he had to go, the places he never wanted to go again, Moriarty had to go and force his hand. He tried to ignore the clench of pain in his hearts as he said in a low voice, “I know where they are.”

     Ignoring Sherlock's questioning look, he started off toward the lounge, where the rest of their group were currently sitting around. They had all been taking turns watching the screen, and since it was Sherlock and the Doctor's turn, the others were taking a break. The Doctor pulled the door open, walking in with Sherlock right behind him. Sylvia jumped slightly when the door was yanked open, and the other four looked up with interest. “I know where Molly and Lestrade are being held.”

     Donna's expression became heavy with relief. “Oh thank god. Where are they?”

     The Doctor didn't answer. “John, is Donna's arm going to be alright to come with us?”

     John shrugged. “I wouldn't recommend it, but the wound shouldn't re-open.”

     He turned his attention to the woman in question. “Are you up for coming with us.”

     “Of course! I'm not sitting out on this one,” Donna said, sounding outraged at the idea.

     “Donna!” Sylvia protested. “You just got shot for pity's sake. You're not going anywhere.”

     Donna snapped, “Molly's still in danger. I'm going.”

     “Good,” the Doctor said, ignoring Sylvia's glare. “John, you coming?”

     The doctor nodded. “Molly and Lestrade might need medical help.”

     “Right. Let's go.” As he pushed out the door, he could feel his hearts pounding in fear. He had never wanted to go back, but right now, Molly needed him. He wouldn't lose her. He wouldn't.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly felt the fingers around hers loosen, the hand around hers going limp. Fear spiked in her chest. “Greg?” she called out hoarsely. No response.

     More panicked now, she called out again, “Greg!” He didn't respond, and his hand was totally limp in hers now. She grabbed his arm, pulling his torso somewhat awkwardly onto her lap. The detective inspector lay there like a ragdoll, unresponsive to anything Molly tried to wake him up. Even in her acceptance of oncoming death, she still felt panic blazing through her at the thought of Greg's death. “Come on, wake up,” she pleaded.

     After several moments of useless pleading, she closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the door. “Doctor!” she called out as loudly as she could manage. “Donna! Sherlock! Someone!” She didn't know if she believed in them coming anymore, but she had to try. For Greg, and for herself.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Doctor tried to land them on one of the lower levels, where he thought they might be more likely to store prisoners. He really had. But his thoughts had been on that room, that damn room, so even though he hated the thought of ever stepping foot in there again, that was where the TARDIS landed.

     When he opened the TARDIS door and looked out, he felt like something had punched him in the gut. It looked exactly the same as it had that day. The memories were flooding through his brain, drowning everything else out, the memories that he tried to keep buried in the back of his mind, where he kept the Time War and everything else he couldn't bear to remember.

     Donna stepped out after him, looking around with confusion. “I thought you said Molly was here?” John and Sherlock followed after, but the Doctor didn't pay them any attention. His gaze was focused on one very specific spot.

     “She is,” the Doctor told her distractedly. “Somewhere, probably on one of the lower floors.”

     “Then why didn't we land there?” Sherlock asked irritably. His gaze was darting around the room, trying to take everything in, probably trying to figure out exactly where in London they were by the type of paint they used on the walls.

     Donna, however, was looking at the Doctor now. She seemed to have realized that something was wrong, really wrong. “Doctor?” she asked softly. “What is it? Where are we?”

     The Time Lord found himself walking forward, toward that wall, that stupid, infuriating wall. The wall that had closed him off from the one he cared about the most. “Torchwood,” he said dully. “We're in Torchwood.”

**SCENEBREAK**

      _Torchwood?_ Sherlock had definitely heard the name before. He ran a quick search through his memories before finding it. “You mean where Jack and his team work?” he asked.

     The Doctor didn't look at him. He was standing in front of the vast, white wall, facing away from them, but he could see the turmoil and pain the Doctor was in by the set of his shoulders and the hitch in his voice. “No, that's a different branch of Torchwood,” he told the detective. “His group operates in Cardiff. This is the Torchwood that participated in the Battle of Canary Wharf, and were destroyed by it. This is all that remains of Torchwood London.”

     It made sense, Sherlock supposed. From what he'd heard from Jack and the Doctor, Torchwood had been created to study alien artifacts and keep Earth safe from alien attackers. It was logical to suppose that they had alien technology lying around, fine-tuned over the years for human use. And since Torchwood London had been disbanded after the battle of Canary Wharf, that made it the perfect place to hide someone. They probably had highly advanced cells to keep people locked in.

     As he was running through the logical deductions, John and Donna were apparently thinking along different, more emotional lines. “Are you alright, mate?” John asked the Doctor gently. He and Donna were hanging back behind the Doctor, watching him with concern. With a start, Sherlock remembered that the reason Moriarty would have chosen this place to hide Molly and Lestrade was because this was somewhere that meant something to the Doctor.

     “I... It's just, I lost someone here,” the Doctor said quietly. “A friend. She ended the battle of Canary Wharf, and I lost her.”

     Sherlock could hear the pain and loss in the Doctor's tone, still strong even after all this time, apparently. He remembered vague mentions on the Doctor's part, and Molly's explanation of why he had let her join him on the TARDIS. Because he had lost Rose Tyler. The detective didn't know much about the mysterious Rose, but it was obvious from the way the Doctor was acting now that he loved her. Why else would her loss hurt this much?

     For once, he really didn't know what to say. Normally, he might have snarked or gone into a deduction rant about the Doctor's feelings, but right now, he could understand that worry, that pain of loss. He had lost John Watson once, and he knew that he could never do that again. He looked over at the doctor, feeling a warmth thrill of relief at seeing him alive and well in front of him. But for several long months during the Year, he had thought he would never see John again. There was nothing to say to that kind of pain.

     He'd nearly lost Donna too. When she'd gotten shot, for one horrible moment, he thought she'd been killed. But she was fine, and though he'd never admit it to anyone, he was immensely relieved. Donna was his friend, more than he ever would've thought possible when he'd met the headstrong ginger. Molly was his friend too, and the Doctor, even if their friendship mostly consisted of them always trying to one-up the other. He could understand friendship now, and loss. What would it be like for the Doctor when they all left him, whenever that time may be?

     Sherlock shook his head to clear his thoughts. He may not be able to help the Doctor with his loss of Rose. But Molly was in here somewhere, and she was running out of time. He could help the Doctor focus on that. “Doctor, where do you think we should look for Molly?” he asked pointedly.

     That finally seemed to snap the Doctor out of his trance. He looked back at Sherlock with a somewhat dazed expression, before pulling himself together. “Right. This way.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     Donna wasn't sure what to be more worried about, the Doctor's blue-screen moment back in the room with the blank wall, or how easily _Sherlock_ of all people had pulled him out of it. But right now, her main worry was finding Molly, so she chose to focus on that instead.

     They had moved down to some of the lower levels of the Torchwood building. It was darker in here, with dimly flickering lights. There were some signs of the carnage of the Battle of Canary Wharf to be seen even down here. There were holes blasted in the bricked walls, scorch marks on the ceilings and floors. She didn't know much about the battle, but clearly whatever had been fighting it had been fairly powerful. She hoped she'd never have to run into them on her travels through time and space.

     Their search had been lasting about an hour now, and nothing had turned up. No sign of Molly or Lestrade anywhere. Donna was about to ask the Doctor if he was sure Molly was there, when she heard something. It was very faint, so she wasn't sure she'd really heard it. But then it came again. The very faint cry of someone calling, “Help!”

     “Molly!” The Doctor was off in an instant, leaving the other three to scramble after him. Donna felt a dizzying wave of relief. They'd found her, they'd found Molly, everyone was safe, it was over.

     They came upon a cell near the end of the hall. Molly's voice sounded from inside, a hoarse cry for help, over and over. “Molly, we're here!” the Doctor told her. He started to get to work on the lock, his Sonic Screwdriver _whirring_ away as it hovered over the keypad lock.

     There was a moment of silence from inside the cell. “Doctor?” The word was dull and hoarse and hesitantly hopeful all at once. “Doctor! Get us out of here!”

     “I'm trying,” he assured her.

     “Molly, are you alright? Is Lestrade in there with you?” Sherlock asked.

     “We're both in here, but Greg's unconscious. Doctor, they've been dosing us with snuff gas.” The Doctor froze, a look of horror on his face, before redoubling his efforts to get the lock open.

     “Damnit,” he growled, lowering the sonic screwdriver. “It's got a deadlock seal. The Sonic Screwdriver won't get me in.” He ran a hand frantically through his hair, deciding. “I'm going to have to get into the cell with the TARDIS.” Louder now, he called to Molly, “Molly, I'm going to bring the TARDIS into the cell. I'll be right back, I promise.”

     A slight whimper sounded from inside. After a few moments, Molly said, “Please hurry.”

     The Doctor didn't need to be told twice. He took off back down the hall, leaving Donna, Sherlock, and John by the door of Molly's cell.

     John seemed to throw himself into doctor mode. In a clear, clinical tone, he asked, “Molly, listen, what is snuff gas? What have they been dosing you with?”

     “It's alien technology,” came Molly's subdued, hoarse reply. “ It's fatal. We've been getting small doses, but I don't think we'll last another blast of it.” Donna felt a thrill of fear, especially when Molly added quietly, “I'm not sure we'll survive anyway.”

     “Come on Molly,” Donna said pleadingly. “The Doctor will be there soon. We'll get you out of there. We'll go see planets and aliens and space again, yeah?”

     “Molly, please, we need to keep you talking,” John continued. “We need to keep you awake.”

     “I'm trying,” Molly said quietly. Donna was shocked to hear how small and scared her voice sounded. She'd seen Molly strong and confident, and she'd seen her break down before, crying over the torrent of memories, but she'd never seen her so helpless and pleading. It scared her.

     To Donna's surprise, Sherlock joined in, telling the woman behind the door, “Molly, stay focused on us. Remember the Year. We got out of rougher scrapes than this. We always made it through, because you led us through it. You saved us, now we're going to save you.”

     There was no response. Donna felt a rush of panic. “Molly?” Still nothing. “Molly!” Still no response, and as the silence stretched on, the only sound to be heard was the faint _vworp, vworp_ from inside the cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grr, I really wanted to finish the episode in this chapter. Ah well, I'll wrap it up next chapter, and then onwards onto a new episode.


	37. Return of a Hero: Part Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets wrapped up.

Molly felt like something was pounding against the inside of her skull. Letting out a groan, she tried to rise, slowly blinking to clear her bleary vision, but gentle hands forced her to lie back. “No, no, no, don't get up,” a familiar voice said, “just sit back for a minute, yeah? Get your bearings.”

The companion blinked in surprise. “John?” Her gaze cleared, and she was able to see the doctor sitting in a chair a few feet away. She herself was lying in some kind of hospital bed, but clearly it wasn't on Earth, at least not in the 21st Century. A metal bar hovered over her, a bright light emitting from it ever so often, and below that, hanging right over her, was a hologram of her brain, heart, and lungs. It was too weird to watch the see-through image of her heart pumping and her lungs breathing, so she decided to focus on John instead. “Where are we?”

He shrugged. “I think the Doctor said this place was called Krit? He said the snuff gas originated here, so the aliens here would know how to treat it.”

Molly couldn't help but smile. “Ah, it's been ages since we visited Krit! That was one of the first places I got to see, a few weeks after I started traveling with the Doctor." Her grin faded as she remembered the cell back on Earth. "Sorry, how did I get here? And where's Greg?" Panic seized her. "Is he alright? Did the Doctor get to him in time?"

"Greg's fine, Molly," John assured her. "You're both fine. Go on, turn your head and look. Just be careful, don't strain yourself."

Puzzled, Molly turned her head to the right. There was another bed beside hers, and she was thoroughly relieved to see a sleeping Greg lying there. There was a hologram above him as well, showing a perfectly sound, beating heart. An intense wave of relief crashed over her as she realized he was really okay, they both were, they had actually survived.

"Yeah, he's still unconscious, though the doctors here say he should wake up soon," John He got a bit more of that gas in his lungs than you did, that's all."

Molly nodded, remembering how he'd fallen unconscious before her. "Makes sense. So, where's everyone else?"

The doctor cleared his throat, shifting in his seat slightly. "Well, Sherlock and Donna are on Earth hunting down the last of Moriarty's network. They're getting as many names as they can from Andor and Martin, and the people who took you Lestrade. Turns out they were employees at Torchwood, London who lost their jobs after Canary Wharf. That's why they were so eager to work for Moriarty, I guess."

"Torchwood?" Molly repeated in surprise. She knew what had happened in the Battle of Canary Wharf, and what the Doctor had lost. The mysterious woman in the Journal of Impossible Things, the one he had loved. _Rose Tyler._

"That's where they were keeping you," John informed her.

Molly fell silent at that. To think that the whole time, she had been in the same place where the Doctor had lost Rose. To think he'd very nearly lost another companion there. She shuddered, feeling sudden sympathy for the Time Lord.

Then she realized something else John had said. "Wait a minute, did you say Sherlock and Donna were working on that together?"

John nodded, looking about as puzzled as Molly felt. "Yeah. Sherlock actually asked for her help. Specifically. He asked for someone's help. I'm still trying to wrap my head around that one."

Molly shook her head. "I swear I don't understand those two. When they first met, I'd never seen two people who hated each other more. I couldn't tell you the number of screaming matches the Doctor and I had to sit through. Then overnight, they're best friends. It's weird. Sometimes I'd swear they're getting along just to confuse the rest of us."

John shrugged. "Who can ever understand anything Sherlock does?" he pointed out. "Anyway, he asked me to come too, but I figured I should stay here and keep an eye on you. He seemed alright with that. He was pretty worried about you." The doctor gave her a curious glance, and she could hear the question underneath; _since when do you and Sherlock get along?_

Molly hesitated. She didn't really want to discuss the Year, not at the moment. John waited a moment, but when she stayed silent, he shrugged and said, "Donna's family was targeted by Moriarty too, so they're here too. They asked to see you when you woke up. Well, her grandfather did, and Mrs. Hudson."

The companion blinked in surprise. "Oh. Um, okay, sure. In a bit." She had more questions first. Well, specifically, one. "So, uh, where's the Doctor?" As she asked, she did her utmost to keep from thinking of her last moments in the cell, when the Doctor had told her he was leaving to get the TARDIS and her terrified, irrational first thought had been _No, no he can't, he can't abandon me again!_

"He's out there with Donna's family," he assured her. "He asked to come in too, if you said it was alright."

All of the doubt and pain she'd felt since the Year swelled up again. She could say no. She could keep pushing him away. But he had saved her, again. He'd nearly lost her, and he'd braved Torchwood, the place he had lost the woman he'd loved, to save her. She was too tired to be wary of him right now. "Sure. Let them all in."

John nodded. "Alright." He got up and walked out of the room, leaving Molly alone with an unconscious Greg. She turned to look at him, a soft smile on her lips. Somehow, just seeing him there, alive and well after nearly seeing him die, made her feel more at peace than she had in a long time.

To her surprise, he shifted, letting out a low groan. Two dark browns eyes slowly blinked open and met hers. "Molly?" he asked groggily. After a moment, he gave a tired grin. "So, I guess we didn't die then?"

Molly laughed, still giddy with sheer relief. "Not this time," she joked.

"Ah well, we gave it our best shot," Greg replied.

The door opened again, and this time John was followed by the Doctor, Mrs. Hudson, and an older man she didn't know.

The Doctor hung back, letting Mrs. Hudson and the other man step forward first. Mrs. Hudson rushed forward, tutting and saying, "Molly dear, so glad to see you're alright. And you too, Detective Inspector."

Molly smiled weakly. "Thanks Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock and John's landlady really was the sweetest woman. The companion was suddenly grateful she was here, instead of just having an awkward conversation with the Doctor.

The other man seemed familiar somehow, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. He seemed pleasant enough though, reaching forward and warmly shaking her hand while saying, "So, you're the Doctor's friend Molly then? Glad to see you're okay." John crossed over to talk to Greg, leaving Molly to speak with this new man.

Molly was surprised by the genuine warmth in his voice. "Um, thank you. And you're Donna's grandfather, right?"

"Wilfred Mott," he introduced himself. "We've met before, actually. Christmas, the year the floating star attacked London."

Molly's eyes widened. "You were the newspaper vendor! I knew you looked familiar!" Once again, she was forced to marvel at the universe and its love of coincidences.

Wilfred nodded. "An honor to meet you, truly ," he said with a cheerful smile.

"Same," Molly answered honestly. Anyone who was related to Donna had to be a pretty interesting person.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Doctor take a hesitant step forward. She turned to look at him, giving him a little nod. As he approached, Molly was surprised to see dark circles under his eyes. How long had it taken him to find them?

He gave her a tired, relieved smile. "It's good to see you again, Molly Hooper," he said, but there was a slight note of hesitation. Molly felt it too, the undercurrent of awkwardness. Neither of them knew where the other stood.

"You too," she said uncertainly.

**SCENEBREAK**

A few days later, Molly and Greg had fully recovered, and Sherlock and Donna had locked up Moriarty's newest hires. It was safe for the others to return to Earth.

Donna didn't know about Sherlock, but she was itching to get back on the TARDIS and get traveling again. Funny, she'd spent her whole life on Earth without thinking anything of it, but now she couldn't stay on Earth for more than a few days without getting cabin fever.

The familiar _vworp, vworp_ rang through the flat. Slowly, an old, blue box materialized in 221B once again.

The door swung open, and Molly stepped out, looking around. She grinned when she spotted Donna. "Heard you got shot. How's the other guy look?"

Donna snorted. "Better than you did when we pulled you out of that cell. Glad to see you're okay." She pulled the other companion into a right hug. Molly stiffened in surprise, then returned the hug before they both pulled back.

Another man stepped out, coming out to stand beside Molly. She told Donna, "Let's see if we can actually finish the introductions this time before something else blows up. This is Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade."

He reached out a hand, which Donna took. "Pleased to meet you, Donna. Molly's told me a lot," he said cheerfully.

"Same," Donna replied. She couldn't help but notice how close the two of them were standing, and the way their arms brushed. The companion smirked to herself. Molly deserved a bit of happiness, and hey, he wasn't bad-looking.

John and the Doctor stepped out next, followed by Wilf, Mrs. Hudson, and Sylvia. Donna rushed over into her granddad's arms, pulling him into a tight hug. It still gave her chills to think of how easily her family could've been killed by Moriarty's men.

As she pulled back, the Doctor spoke up from beside the TARDIS door. "So, back to time and space then. Who's coming?" Donna noticed he cast a nervous glance at Molly, and she couldn't help but share the sentiment. Would she decide to stay.

Molly met the Doctor's glance uneasily. She didn't say anything, but she gave a little nod of confirmation. Donna's rush of relief was interrupted by Sherlock's voice. "I'm staying."

Donna turned to look at him, surprised. She'd known it was coming, of course, but she hasn't really considered what defeating Moriarty's men meant until now. "My work with Moriarty's network is done," he explained. "That's why I was on the TARDIS in the first place. And now that my name has been cleared, I can start taking cases." He smirked. "You should see what the tabloids are calling it. 'The Return of the Reichenbach Hero.' I'll stay in London, wherever I'm welcome." He cast a quiet look at John when he said this.

John had clearly noticed. He cleared his throat, glancing at Donna, before saying, "Well, all of your stuff's still here, and nothing's been moved, so you might as well stay," he said with a hint of amusement.

Intense relief flooded Sherlock's expression, though he tried to hide it. "Thank you," he said solemnly.

John grinned. "It's fine. I'm not saying you're not a bloody guy for lying to me, because you are, but I understand why you did it."

Donna couldn't help but grin at the relief and joy on both of their faces. It was good to see Sherlock happy, for once. But that didn't mean she was glad he was leaving. She faced him, straightening herself out as she asked, "So, is that all then, Mr. Holmes?"

He nodded stiffly. "That is it, Ms. Noble."

The two of them stood like that for a moment, then neither of them could keep the straight face up anymore. Donna reached forward and pulled Sherlock into a hug. He seemed surprised at first, but then, to everyone's shock judging by their expressions, he returned the gesture. "I'm going to miss you, you stick insect," Donna told him.

"Likewise, Noble," Sherlock replied warmly.

As the two pulled back, John told her, "Anytime you're in London, you're welcome to drop in. You saved my life, after all."

Donna laughed at that one. "Oh yeah, and don't think skinny here doesn't owe me a couple lives as well. I'll be around again, believe me." She knew she didn't have to tell the Doctor she was coming too. She wasn't leaving that box any time soon.

"Alright then," the Doctor said, a little sadly. "You know, I never actually thought I'd say this, but I think I'm gonna miss you, Sherlock."

The detective smirked. "Yes, you rather loathed me when we first met? Not that I didn't deserve it. Ah well. We'll see each other again, I have no doubt."

To Donna's surprise, DI. Lestrade stepped towards the Doctor, wearing a hopeful expression. "Listen, I was wondering, could I take you up on that offer before?"

The Doctor blinked at him. "Offer?"

Molly understood first. "You want to come with us?" she asked with surprise, and, Donna noted with amusement, a little bit of hope.

Lestrade gave her a reassuring grin. "Yeah, well, Moriarty's men aren't around anymore to get suspicious if I leave. And I've heard enough of your wild stories of space and time. I wouldn't mind picking up a few of my own." He looked between the two of them, adding, "If it's all right with all of you, that is."

Molly grinned at him, taking his hand in hers. "I'd love you to come," she told him.

The Doctor watched their interaction with a fond expression, and a slightly hopeful one. "Of course," he said, "I'd be glad to have you on board. Another one who walked the earth." Donna blinked at the strange reference, but didn't ask. "Seems like we always need two of them on board."

Lestrade grinned. "Thanks." To Donna's surprise, he glanced at her, giving her a look that clearly asked her approval as well. He seemed like a nice enough guy, and clearly he and Molly were into each other. But it seemed like more than that. She had a feeling that whatever had traumatized Molly, Lestrade had been there got it, and that was why he was coming. He was helping Molly feel comfortable again. That lone earned her approval.

She gave the man a brief nod. "Welcome aboard, Detective Inspector."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally. Freaking finally. I appovize once again for the length of this episode. I really didn't mean for this to last seven chapters. Truly I didn't. But at least it's done now, and I can move on.
> 
> And yes, Sherlock has left, but Lestrade has now joined Team TARDIS! Yay! I've been looking forward to bringing him on board. Sherlock's gotten better to write, but Lestrade's still easier, plus he's awesome.
> 
> And now, for an interlude. I've been looking forward to this one for a long, long time.
> 
> And for those of you who will inevitably ask, since this was meant to replace the Sontaran Stratagem and you all know what episode comes next - no, I will not be writing The Doctor's Daughter. I'm sorry, I really am. I love that episode, and I adore Jenny. But that would require them to leave immediately, and I want this interlude to happen before any other action. I'm really sorry, but I hope the interlude makes up for it.


	38. Interlude Four: We Need to Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Molly need to talk.

     In the week that followed Lestrade's arrival on the ship, they mostly sat around the ship. This time, it wasn't just the Doctor being over-protective of Molly. He had a feeling that everyone needed a break after everything that had happened.

     Lestrade seemed to be settling in fairly well. He'd gotten his own room, he was getting along with Donna, he'd found a room in the TARDIS that was sort of a lounge area with a couch and a TV that he favored. The Doctor had liked him before the Year, impressed by his kindness to Molly when Sherlock was being an ass, and now he knew how much the man had done to save the Earth. More than that, he knew that Lestrade was doing his best to be there for Molly.

     Molly Hooper. The Woman Who Walked the Earth. His best friend. The one who had suffered the Year, and was in pain now because of it.

     The Doctor still wasn't sure whether talking to Molly would help or just make things worse. But talking with Wilf, and nearly losing her again, made him realize he had to try. Because if he didn't do something, he really was going to lose her. More importantly, she was slowly losing herself to her fear and pain, and he couldn't let that happen. He'd do whatever it took to help her.

     He found her in the library, the usual place to find Molly Hooper when she was feeling down. She was curled up on the usual sofa in front of the fireplace, wrapped up in a blanket with a book in hand. For a moment, the Doctor hesitated. Then he remembered something Sherlock had said to him almost two years ago, after that horrible day at the pool. _"Talk to her. That seems to help people, talking about things."_ He recalled Wilf's words too; _”You should at least let her know that you're there if she ever does want to talk. It's a start.”_ The Time Lord took a deep breath, then steeled himself and walked in. “Molly?”

     The companion stiffened at the sound of his voice, eyes flicking up at him with a sudden flicker of panic. “Oh, uh, hi Doctor,” she mumbled, looking down awkwardly.

     “Hey,” he said carefully. After a few moments, with her doing her best to avoid his gaze, he said, “Listen, Molly, I've been meaning to talk to you.”

     She looked up at him with a sudden blaze of panic in her eyes. “I'm not sure –”

     “Please, let me finish,” he asked quietly. Molly hesitated, then gave a miniscule nod. He chose to count this as a victory and moved on. “I know we haven't really talked about the Year since it happened.” She flinched at the mention, but allowed him to continue. “I thought that was what was best. And maybe I was wrong, or maybe I was right, I don't really know. But I should've let you know that if you ever do need to talk, I am here. I didn't see how much it effected you. I didn't realize...” he trailed off, not sure what to say in the face of Molly's expression. She was trying so hard to keep that stoic mask up, but he could see the fear and vulnerability in her eyes. He cleared his throat, collecting himself. “What I'm trying to say is, I can see something's wrong. I want to help you. I really do. And whether that's by keeping my distance, or by talking, or whatever you need, I'll do it. Whatever helps you. You're my best friend, Molly Hooper. I want to help you.”

     He waited a few moments to see if she'd say anything, but she just stared at him in uncertain silence. With a flicker of uncertainty, he turned away. “I'll let you read, then,” he said quietly. He wasn't sure if he'd just made things better, or even worse.

     Molly felt a rush of panic. “Wait!” she blurted out too quickly. The Doctor looked back at her, not quick enough to cover up the expression of hope. She hesitated, but then her conversation with Donna occurred to her. _“Whatever it is... you should talk to someone."_ She knew, she just _knew_ , that if she let the Doctor walk out the door now, that that would be the end of it. She couldn't let that happen. For the last few days, she had been thinking over her life since she had joined the Doctor in the TARDIS. The confusion and curiosity in the hospital on the moon, the excitement in Elizabethan London, the way she had taken control and saved the Romanovs. All of her adventures on the TARDIS. Her crazy, whacky, wonderful life. The one she had fought tooth and nail to get back to during the Year. She loved this life, she really did, and she wanted to stay. And if she was going to, this talk had to happen at one point or another. Otherwise, it just wasn't going to work. Reluctantly, she gestured for the Doctor to come back. He hurried to the sofa, sitting cross-legged in front of it, next to the fireplace.

     “Listen, I –” She paused, giving herself a little shake. _Pull yourself together!_ “I don't want to talk about the Year. But, I'm starting to think that maybe I should. Because... I can't go on like this.”

     The Doctor felt a pang of guilt. He knew she was right. Whatever was wrong, it was building up, and soon it would be too much. The Time Lord nodded. “Only if you want to talk,” he assured her.

     Molly let out a brief sigh. “It was going to happen eventually. Let's just get it over with.” She lifted her chin, looking at him as evenly as she could. “I'll tell you about the Year That Never Was.”

     The Time Lord felt a rush of hope and excitement, but he did his best to cover it up, for Molly's sake. He kept his voice and his expression as gentle as possible as he nodded, scooting a little bit closer to the sofa.

     The companion closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the sofa, skimming through the memories, trying to decide where to begin, what to tell him. “That first day, we just hid in the woods,” she began slowly. “trying to keep out of sight of the Toclafane. It was a massacre. People were dying everywhere. 1/10th of the world's population wiped out in a day. We had to run through some of the battlefields to get out of sight, and even once we were a good deal into the woods, we could still hear the screams.”

     She opened her eyes, lowering her head to look almost accusingly at the Time Lord. “That was the hardest part of the beginning,” she said quietly. “You'd given me a job to do, and I knew I had to be alive to do it. So we had to stay safe, we couldn't try to save anyone, because we knew it'd be pointless. We didn't know how invincible the Toclafane were yet, but it became pretty clear pretty quickly. The army did it's best. They were throwing everything they had at the things, but nothing was even making a dent. We figured out pretty quickly that nothing could stop the Toclafane, and anyone who went up against them was going to wind up dead. I had to keep Sherlock and Lestrade safe, so we hid. Even though people were dying all around us. It went against everything I'd learned on the TARDIS, but I had to. I had to leave them to die.”

     The Doctor could imagine the horror of it, bodies falling all around them, huddling in terror among the trees, trying to ignore the people who needed her help when she knew she couldn't do anything for them. His hearts clenched painfully at the thought of Molly having to go through that.

     Molly let out a slow breath. Now that she had started, it was somehow easier to keep going. “In the first few days, the Toclafane subdued the remaining people, and the Masters made his intentions clear. They started building the slave quarters. That's when we decided to begin our work.”

     “It was hard in the beginning. No one had any idea who these three idiots blabbering on about a magical Doctor coming to save them were. A few places kicked us out, a few hung on our every word, desperate to believe in something, but most people didn't believe us. They had no reason to. We did our best. Lestrade had his gun on him, and he already knew a little bit about hunting. We figured out how to hunt to survive, and what we didn't need, we brought to the slave quarters. That helped a little, but they usually just took our food and sent us on our way.”

     “Over time, though, we began to travel even farther, and word began to spread. The famous Molly Hooper and her Hooper Army, spreading the good word of the Doctor. It was an improvement, but it still wasn't enough. We all started to realized that we needed to _show_ people we were worth listening to.”

     “One of the slave quarters we visited was planning a rebellion. We knew we couldn't let them. They'd get massacred. But we also saw an opportunity to get some good publicity. I met with the self-proclaimed leader of the slaves. Somehow, I managed to talk him down from his ideas of rebellion. We planned an escape instead.” She shook her head. “I still don't know how we managed it, but somehow we got everyone out of there alive. The Toclafane didn't even see us. We took the whole group out into the woods, and we told them to get the word out. Anywhere they went from here, tell people about Molly Hooper and the Hooper Army, and how they defied the Toclafane. We never heard from any of them again. Most of them were probably dead within the week. The Toclafane have eyes everywhere. But some of them must have made it, because little by little, the word got out. Molly Hooper's army had swiped an entire slave quarters from under the noses of the Toclafane. Molly Hooper was going to save the world.”

     The Doctor didn't miss the bitterness in her tone, or the dull expression as she said the last part. He wanted to say something, to remind her that she did end up saving the world, but he knew it wouldn't help. He had to let her say her piece.

     Molly's voice turned hard as she explained, “For a while, you know, the two months or so, people were just trying to pull themselves together. They were terrified of the Toclafane, terrified of what was going to happen to them. But after a while, the initial shock wore off, and that's when humanity began to show itself.”

     The Doctor blinked at that. “What do you mean?”

     “I mean, Doctor,” she said coldly, “humanity isn't always as bright and shining as you make it out to be. Even when all they have is each other, not everyone's willing to be a brave little survivor. Some of them turned nasty. A black market started up. They traded whatever was left from the pre-Master era that was considered valuable. Alcohol, drugs, food, jewels. And people.” The Doctor felt a twinge of horror at the thought. “A slave trade among the slaves. Sometimes women, sometimes people haggled for the best workers to have in their slave quarters, sometimes... worse. There was still politics going on. There was still crime and murder. Even some of the people who managed to escape weren't always friendly.”

     The Time Lord felt a rush of anger and horror. He loved to spout the virtues of humanity, true, but he wasn't blind to their less virtuous side. But he hadn't thought about the consequences that would have during the Year. To think that people would stoop to that, in such desperate times, when humanity needed to stick together the most...

     Molly could see the evident horror in the Doctor's expression, but somehow, it wasn't enough. He had to truly understand what his order had put her through, and her feelings about it. "Our fame helped us most of the time. People were willing to listen to a Molly Hooper who had never been captured and had traveled so far and wide. But not everyone had humanity's best interests at heart. Some people decided that they'd rather turn in the famous Hooper Army and get a handsome reward." She spat out the words bitterly, eyes flashing with a cold anger.

     "We had a rather bad run-in with a band of slave traders in Poland. They ambushed our camp at night. One guy had my by the waist, had his hand over my mouth. Sherlock was pinned too, but Lestrade was able to get his gun out. He distracted them long enough for me to grab him and Sherlock and teleport out of there, further into the woods. The wild dogs got them after that. We could hear the howling and the screams."

     The Doctor wasn't sure what disturbed him more; what those slave traders had tried to do, or how cold Molly sounded when she described their fate. He longed to sit beside her, do something to comfort her, but he had a feeling he wouldn't be welcome. So he stayed where he was instead.

     "After that, I started carrying a gun." She paused, taking a moment to glare at him defiantly, daring him to argue with that decision. He might have a couple months ago, but now he wouldn't dream of it. She resumed, "It tended to be more useful against wildlife than people, but it did the trick when it came to intimidation. We had a couple incidents scattered around, but with the three of us armed, we got left alone more often than not."

     She sighed, eyes suddenly dull with grief. "Japan was the worst. A bunch of rebellions started up. They actually did pretty well. They couldn't kill the Toclafane, of course, but they got a bunch of people to escape, and they holed up in an old military base. They managed to keep the Toclafane out for a solid three months." Her voice turned hard as she continued, "That's when the Master decided it was worth more to just off the whole country than try to salvage what slave labour he could. He nuked the whole country. I saw the bomb coming, I only had enough time to teleport Sherlock and Lestrade out of there. There wasn't enough time to save anyone else.” Her voice wavered at the end as she remembered it, having to make that split-second decision to abandon all those people to die. “We went back, a couple days later, to look for survivors. But it was too late. Anyone who'd survived the blast, the Toclafane had tracked down and killed. They were all dead.” She drew in a sharp breath, blinking back tears as she remembered. They'd been surrounded by so many bodies, mutilated beyond all recognition. It had been a horror show. By far the worst thing she had seen that year.

     The Doctor listened in growing horror. He knew about Japan, of course. The Master had come into his room, gloating about the destruction of so many people, trying to get a reaction out of the other Time Lord. And he'd heard the whispers that Molly Hooper had been the only one to walk out of there alive. But he'd never actually believed it. He'd just thought it was another one of the wild stories that had come up about his companion. To think that she had really been there, walking among the dead, desperate to find someone, to save at least one person...

     “Molly...” he said gently, knowing there was nothing he could say to make up for it, that could even begin to try. She just looked back at him with a dull, tired expression.

     “After that, we were almost universally known. We were the only ones who had made it out of Japan alive. Almost everyone was willing to listen to us after that. I guess that's why the word about John came so quickly.”

     “The Time Lord blinked. “John?”

     Molly looked at him in surprise. “Sherlock never told you? Doctor, John died.” The Doctor froze. “He was traveling around, trying to help as many people as possible. He died near the end of the Year, trying to save a teenage rebel. A Toclafane shot him down.”

     No wonder Sherlock had been so subdued after the Year. No wonder he was so desperate to save John from Andor and Martin. _Stupid Time Lord,_ he thought to himself. _I should have realized._ “I had no idea,” he said softly.

     Of he didn't. What did he know about the Year? Molly shook her head, trying to shake off the accusing thoughts. It wasn't his fault he didn't know, was it? She was the one who didn't tell him. “Yeah, well, it's over now. But it haunted Sherlock for a long time. We teleported there and made sure John got a proper funeral, then we got back to work. There were more people to talk to. We had to keep going. Sherlock took a bit of convincing on that point, but he knew the mission as well as the rest of us. We had to spread the word. It was the only way to stop the Master.”

     Her gaze sharpened as she looked at the Doctor. The Time Lord did his best not to flinch away from his companion's glare. “And then it was done. We were finally finished. Time reversed, the Toclafane was gone, the Master was powerless. And you forgave him.”

     The accusation was clear in her tone. The Doctor could see where her anger was coming from. But at the same time, he knew he couldn't have done anything different. He was too desperate not to have killed them all, even if the only other one left had done unspeakable things. “I had to,” he said softly.

     Molly shook her head. “I understand that you couldn't kill him. I guess. I don't know anymore. But was it really your place to forgive him? It was humanity who suffered under his rule. It was Sherlock who lost a best friend, humans who lost family and life.”

     The Doctor let out a sigh. “I don't know,” he answered honestly. “I probably shouldn't have. But I couldn't not.” He felt a tug of pain in his hearts when he thought of his old friend. How it had felt to have him back, even through all the pain and fear. The pain of losing him again. “He was all I had left.”

     For a moment, Molly felt guilty. The Doctor just looked so broken and lost at the mention of the Doctor. She knew he was right. The Year That Never Was, what she had suffered because of the Master, none of it could ever compare to the Time War. Her anger at him faded somewhat. “I know,” she said softly. “And I could have accepted that. I think...” After a moment, she shrugged. “He's gone. It doesn't matter anymore.”

     “But after it was all over, I dunno, I thought I just wanted to forget it. And maybe it would be better if I could have. And for a while it was alright. But I couldn't forget. Those memories just kept coming back.” She crossed her arms over her chest, drawing her knees in a bit closer. “Nightmares. Flashbacks. Little things I found myself doing, habits I picked up to survive. Analyzing a room, reaching for my gun. Little tics I'd picked up. I started to notice them more and more. It seemed like the farther I got from the Year, the more it haunted it. I just couldn't let it go, no matter how much I wanted to.”

     Molly didn't realize she was crying until she felt the warmth on her cheek. She reached up impatiently to wipe the tear away, but more replaced it, so she lowered her hand. “I think what bothered me most was that I was the only one who couldn't move on. I knew Sherlock could remember, clearly he was desperate to get back to John. But he had something to keep him grounded. The mission to stop Moriarty's men. I didn't have anything.” She looked back down at the Doctor, who was gazing at her with guilt and sadness in his ancient expression. “And you, Doctor. You didn't say anything. You acted like it didn't even happen. Like I was supposed to just act happy and cheerful like nothing was wrong.”

     The Doctor looked away, unable to meet her eyes. The Time Lord hated seeing how broken she was now, and because of him. He'd been so stupid, thinking that she was okay as she looked. He of all people should know that “alright” didn't always mean alright. He should've talked to her long before now. “I thought that was what you wanted,” he admitted.

     Her anger began to drain away. He was right. She hadn't exactly brought up the Year either. The one time he had, she'd shut him out. What right did she have to blame him for that, without blaming herself as well? Molly looked down, letting out a small, “Yeah.” She couldn't meet the Doctor's eyes anymore. “I shouldn't blame you. I know I shouldn't. It was the Master's fault, not yours. But the worse the memories get, the harder it is to remember that. I blame you, myself, whatever. It's all so tangled up now. I just don't know what to think anymore.”

     “Molly, I'm so sorry,” the Doctor said gently. “I'm sorry I didn't see something was wrong earlier. But if I know anything about the Year, it's that it's not your fault. None of it.” He looked down. “I put you in a very hard position. No one should have to go through what you did.”

     “All those people I left to die...” Molly whimpered.

     “You did what you had to,” the Doctor reminded her. If there was one thing he understood, it was that sometimes the hardest decision was the one that had to be made. “No one can blame you for that. And absolutely no one could have done better. You saved the world, Molly Hooper.”

     She let out a slow breath. “And at no cost. I don't know, sometimes, it feels like there should have been a cost. Something. It's almost liked I dreamed it all. Some sick nightmare I made up to torture myself. Everyone's walking around on Earth with no idea of what they went through. They have no clue that they died so horribly. We're the only ones who will ever remember, and no one else will talk about it.”

     The Doctor nodded sadly. “Sometimes winning doesn't feel like it at all.”

     Molly looked at the Time Lord, who looked so old and sad in that moment. She wondered what he was thinking about. The Time War? Losing Rose? His other companions? Any of the aliens he had been forced to kill just to keep them from killing others? He'd fought so many battles like her. He'd made decisions just as hard as the ones she'd been forced to. For a moment, she felt a weight fall off her shoulders. Maybe that didn't make her decisions right, but at least she didn't need to feel as though she was alone in that.

     She eyed the Doctor carefully. He was the one who had sent her out there, he was the one who had forgiven the Master, without considering anyone else who had suffered. And maybe that wasn't right. But she had made the decision to go. It was up to her in the end. It had been the right thing to do. And if he'd made some decisions that weren't right, then, well, so had she. If she was going to forgive herself for that, she was going to have to forgive him as well. That was the only way to let go.

     After a few moments, she scooted over, clearing a spot on the couch. The Doctor understood. He got up and walked over to the sofa, sitting on the spot beside Molly. She shuffled closer to him, laying back against his shoulder. The companion snuggled against his side, while the Doctor wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She felt more at peace than she had in a long time. It felt good to have her friend back.

     The Doctor felt a great rush of relief as Molly leaned against him. It wasn't over, of course. Nothing like that could be changed or forgotten so quickly. But he had a feeling they'd taken a step in the right direction. They'd talked, properly talked for the first time since the Year had ended. Now Molly could decide what was best for herself. “What will you do now?” he asked quietly.

     Molly sighed. She was still crying, her tears soaking into the shoulder of the Doctor's pinstripe, but softly. “I want to stay,” she said firmly. That, she knew more clearly than ever. “I don't want to give up this life. And I want to forgive you. And myself. I'm going to try.”

     “I'll do whatever I can to help,” the Doctor promised. “I'm here for whatever you need. If you ever want to talk again, or whatever. And Molly?” She shifted her head to look up at him. “You should talk to Donna and Lestrade too. They care about you. Especially Lestrade,” he added with amusement.

     For the first time since the conversation had started, Molly smiled. Instead of denying it, she teased, “Scared to have domestics on the TARDIS, Doctor?”

     The Doctor snorted. “I'm not that immature,” he said with mock indignation. “If it makes you happy, Molly, I'll put up with all the domestics I need to.” It wasn't like with Mickey and Rose. He didn't need to be convinced to like Lestrade. The man had already more than proved his worth. Besides, he wasn't exactly like he had cause to be jealous. Molly was his best friend. Rose had been... well, it didn't matter anymore. He was more than happy for Lestrade and Molly. Especially if the detective inspector helped her with her trauma over the Year.

     Molly smirked, which softened into a small smile. “Thank you, Doctor,” she said. She'd known the Time Lord was her friend, but it was a surprise to see just how much, and how much he was willing to try and help her. For a moment, she felt almost like she was shy, self-concious little Molly Hooper again, and the Doctor was helping her find herself. She had grown so much since then, but it looked like she still needed the Doctor's help every now and then. And that was okay, because he needed hers too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this is why I couldn't fit in The Doctor's Daughter. :P
> 
> You all knew this had to come at one point or another. The big talk. I only hope it measured up to whatever you were expecting. It's certainly long enough. Most Interludes are somewhat or much shorter than usual chapters, which are generally somewhere around 3000 words. This baby right here made it to 4551 words. I needed to have everything said between the two of them.
> 
> And yeah, I experimented with jumping back and forth with POV. It's not something I plan on using all the time, but it was necessary for this chapter. What do you think?
> 
> In preparation of writing this, I went back, sat down one day, and just read through the entirety of The Woman Who Counted and The Soldier Who Stayed in one sitting. I've gotten reviews from people before, saying that they stayed up late reading my story in one go. Whoever has sent me a message like that in the past, I take my hat off to you, because DAMN you must have stayed up late. It took me over 12 hours to read the whole bloody thing. Grated, I had to go to one class, and I had to get up every so often, but goddamn. You get some serious props.
> 
> It's weird reading over everything again. Molly really has come far from that shy, unconfident woman she was. The story's tone has changed too. Ever since Donna and Sherlock hopped on board. It's just a different feeling with a big group, especially with Molly acting so different. And damn, I say something like "It's over" at the end of every. Damn. Episode. -_- I need to start changing it up.
> 
> But anyway, as I read through, I was also reading all the reviews you guys have left. A lot of you have stuck with this story for a long time, some even from the very beginning. I just want to say a big thank you to everyone who's ever reviewed this story. You have no idea how much these reviews mean to me. They just make my day so much better. It means so much to know what you think of my story. Thank you! :D
> 
> And now, onto the second half of the story! I have it all planned out, and I know exactly which episode is next on the list. I won't say much, but I will say that it's an original episode, again. I do still have to plan out some of the finer details of the episode, so you might have to wait a while for the first chapter, but hopefully it won't be too long. Until then, enjoy the Doctor and Molly talking things out.
> 
> Ooo, also, when I was re-reading everything, I figured out some good songs to listen to that fit some of the chapters.
> 
> Sound of the Drums: Part Four - Let it Go (Frozen)  
> Last of the Time Lords - You Can't Take Me (Spirit)  
> Allons-y - I Will Always Return Reprise (Spirit)  
> This chapter - Sound the Bugle (Spirit)
> 
> Any other suggestions?


	39. The King's Folly: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team TARDIS takes Detective Inspector Lestrade on his first trip through time and space.

     Donna wasn't sure exactly what had happened that day in the library, but she could take a good guess. Molly and the Doctor were talking again. Whatever wall they'd had between them seemed to have dissolved. Molly definitely seemed happier. She was smiling like she really meant it, something Donna hadn't seen even at the start. The companion knew that whatever had caused Molly to start falling apart like she had had been talked through and worked out. Well, maybe not totally, but you had to start somewhere. She'd take whatever she could get, as long as Molly started to recover.

     Two days after the library, the Doctor gathered them all in the console room. He gestured to Lestrade, saying, “Alright Detective Inspector, it's your first trip. You pick.”

     Donna snorted. “I don't remember picking my first trip,” she snarked, more out of amusement than any real irritation.

     To her surprise, Molly joined in with a, “Me neither,” glaring at the Doctor in mock indignation. Donna could see the grin she was trying to hide. Whatever Molly had been avoiding the Doctor over, she seemed far happier now that that was over.

     The Doctor held up his hands defensively, though he couldn't quite manage to hide the grin of relief. “Alright, alright, I was rude, moving on.” He whirled around to face Lestrade, grin now in full force as he offered, “Well, Detective Inspector Lestrade, you've got a whole universe to choose from. You could find anything behind that door. So, where do you want to go? Forwards or backwards? Human or alien?”

     Lestrade looked back at the door, deliberating. He was trying to act calm, but Donna could tell that even he was excited. “Whole universe to choose from,” he repeated. “Well, no pressure then I guess.” He finally looked back at the Doctor, giving a decisive nod. “Alright. Forwards, human.”

     The Doctor began working the controls on the console. “How far into the future?”

     “The farther the better,” Lestrade replied.

     The Time Lord grinned at him. “Ah, I like you!” He turned back to the console, grinning widely as he declared, “I know just where to go. Hang on!" He sent the TARDIS into flight, sending it shaking and shuddering into the Time Vortex. Lestrade nearly got thrown off his feet, but Molly reached out and caught him with one arm, letting him get a better grip on the railing, her arm still around his torso. Neither of them seemed terribly bothered about this position, nor were they in a hurry to move. Donna and the Doctor shared an amused smirk.

     When the TARDIS finally shuddered to a halt, Molly and Lestrade finally disentangled them selves, the detective inspector looking around the spaceship with a raised eyebrow. “Smooth ride,” he said dryly. “Is it always like this?”

     “Yep,” Donna and the Doctor said at the same time, while Molly said, “Pretty much.” Molly and the Doctor's excitement was catching. Donna felt more pumped up than she had since her first trip to Paldoon. She stood back as the Doctor bounded to the door, pulling it open with a flourish. “Outside this door,” he announced dramatically, “could be anything at all.”

     Lestrade snorted. “Some of the stories I've heard, I can believe that.” The Doctor threw Molly a questioning look, which she returned with a somewhat smug smirk. The detective inspector made his way over to the door, stepping out past the Doctor. Molly went next, leaving Donna to follow. The Doctor stepped out behind them, locking the TARDIS behind them.

     They had walked into a grand ballroom, with polished mahogany floors and a grand, arching ceiling, with futuristic, floating chandelier. Couples swept across the floor, dressed in elegant Edwardian wear. If not for the floating chandelier, Donna would've thought they'd flown to the past by accident.

     On closer inspection, however, she realized the couples weren't entirely human. Some were, but there were also red creatures with scales and glowing amber eyes, brown insect-like creatures with four arms and two insect-like legs, creatures with forked tails. Aliens and humans were scattered about in equal measures, all dancing in elegant sync.

     “Where are we?” Lestrade asked curiously, staring around the ballroom with wonder. Donna didn't miss the way he reached out his hand and Molly grasped it without seeming to think about it.

      The Doctor grinned, waving an arm grandly. "Ladies and gentleman," he announced, "Welcome to New Earth."

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly blinked in surprise. "New Earth?" She gazed around the ballroom with newfound interest. Memories of a rainy alleyway and a small motorcar flashed in her mind.

     The Doctor looked at her with a grin. "Yeah, same planet we visited," he assured her. "Different part of it, though. New London, by the looks of it, maybe... 40 years before we came here?"

     "Ah, shame," she commented. "Wouldn't have minded seeing Milo and Cheen again."

     The Doctor looked at her oddly. "You mean that couple that kidnapped you?” he asked dubiously. Donna and Greg looked at her, slightly alarmed at the suggestion. Molly had told Greg a lot of stories of her travels over the Year, the story of New Earth and New New York just hadn't been one of them. That was why he hadn't understood when Jack had called himself the Face of Boe, she remembered with amusement.

     She smirked at the Doctor's uncertainty. “They weren't so bad,” she told him. “They were going to bring me back to you, we just got a little tied up with the Macra. Cheen was actually pretty friendly. She called Sherlock a right snob.”

     “All right, she can't be too bad then,” Donna joked. Molly snorted, and Lestrade let out a chuckle. The Doctor looked like he was trying and failing to hide an amused smirk.

     Greg looked back at the ballroom. “Alright, so, New Earth, New London, what's all this about?”

     The Doctor clapped his hands together, rubbing him eagerly. He bounced forward onto the balls of his feet, the way he did whenever he was about to launch into one of his schoolteacher rants. Molly hadn't realized how much she'd missed that. “Right! So, the year 5 Billion, sun roasts the Earth. Doesn't matter since the humans have all packed up and moved out long before then. But after it's gone, the human race starts to get nostalgic, so they find this place, terraform it, and called it New Earth. We're on the island of the New British Empire, right in the great metropolis of New London. See up there?” He pointed to a balcony overlooking the ballroom, on the far side of the room. There was a barely visible figure right at the edge of the balcony, watching the dancing below. “That's the King of Great New England, King Henry.”

     Donna gave him a questioning glance. “King Henry?” she repeated.

     The Doctor frowned. “What's wrong with Henry?”

     She shrugged. “It's just, y'know, a bit dull. Wouldn't they have better names so far in the future?”

     “Well, they say the old names are the best, especially for royalty. This King Henry is actually King Henry the 473,589th, but since no one wants to say all that, they've taken to giving specific names to each of the rulers. You know, like Ivan the Terrible or Catherine the Great.” He frowned, brow furrowing. “Of course, after all this time, they've gotten a bit uncreative. They call this one King Henry the Not-Quite-So-Tall-As-The-Last-Henry.”

     “What, seriously?” Donna asked in disbelief. Molly didn't blame her. It was a pretty ridiculous name. She certainly didn't envy him, even if he was royalty.

     Before the Doctor could reply, Lestrade interrupted, apparently having latched onto something the Doctor had said. “Wait, did you say it's 5 Billion years in the future?”

     “Yep!” the Time Lord answered cheerfully. “Right now, it's about the year, ooo, 5 Billion and 11?”

     Greg's eyes widened. “5 Billion and 11?” he repeated, looking a little overwhelmed at the idea. “Christ. When you say the future, you really mean it.”

     Molly grinned at him. “Oh, this is nothing,” she joked, throwing the Doctor an amused look. “Last time I got kidnapped and trapped in a motorcar in New New York while giant crabs were trying to kill us.” Greg blinked at her in silent surprise.

     Donna shook her head with exasperation, but Molly could see the amusement in her eyes. “Would you listen to these two?” she said to Greg. “I swear, they make up half of it.” She wasn't sure, but she had a feeling that Donna was relieved that it was “the two of them” again, and not Molly doing her utmost to avoid the Doctor at all costs.

     It had been two days since their talk in the TARDIS library. Ever since, Molly had been doing her best to spend time with the Doctor again, hanging out with him while he fiddled with the TARDIS engine, and she had been the one to suggest landing the TARDIS again. If she was going to forgive the Doctor, and herself, she would have to get used to hanging around him again. She hadn't realized just how much she missed their friendship. There had been a reason the Doctor was the one to draw her out of her shell all that time ago. Now that she was done avoiding him, she felt so much happier already. She was sort of giddy with it. Of course, their issues weren't over yet, but it was a good start.

     The Doctor seemed happier too, if his bouncy mood today was anything to go by. “Well, come on then,” he said, starting back toward the TARDIS. “Ball on New Earth in the year 5 Billion? We'll need to change.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     Donna took her time in the TARDIS wardrobe, deliberating over the surprisingly vast selection of ball gowns, before settling on a dull blue with brown ruffled lining and pale floral patterning, and a skirt that split apart to show a plain, darker blue underneath. She put on a necklace and a bracelet for good measure, then made her way back downstairs.

     By the time she reached the console room again, Lestrade and the Doctor were both there, wearing tuxes. Donna had to blink a couple times at the sight. The Doctor looked almost like a different person without his signature coat and pinstripes. “Never thought I'd see you without that coat of yours,” she commented. She was starting to see why he wore it all the time, though. Without the long coat, he somehow looked even more lanky.

     The Doctor grinned when he saw her. “Very nice, Donna Noble,” he commented, glancing at her dress. “You look ready for a ball.”

     She gave an exaggerated bow. “Why thank you, sir,” she said with mock grace.

     “Nice dress, Donna,” a voice behind her said. She turned to see Molly stepping out of a hallway. The companion was dressed in a gorgeous pale golden gown and opera gloves, with her hair done up in an elegant bun.

     Donna let out a low whistle. “Not as nice as yours,” she commented, giving the other companion an encouraging grin. “You look great. Where'd you get the dress from? I didn't see in the wardrobe.” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Lestrade gaping at Molly, and smirked to herself.

     “Oh, I had it in my closet,” Molly said dismissively. “I wore it on the Titanic; the spaceship, not the ship ship.” Before Donna could express surprise at that revelation, Molly stepped across to Lestrade, holding out an arm with a grin. “So, Greg Lestrade, will you accompany me to the ball?”

     After collecting himself, Lestrade took the offered arm. “I would be honored, Ms. Hooper,” he said warmly. The two made their way to the door, leaving the Doctor and Donna to watch with amused expressions.

     “Five quid says they get together by the month's end,” Donna said without looking at the Doctor.

     “I say two months,” the Doctor answered.

     “Done.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     Lestrade wasn't sure when the last time he'd worn a tux was. It might have been that Christmas party, so long ago. It had seemed as oddly formal then as it did now, but so much had changed since then. Back then, his biggest worry was what kind of headache Sherlock would throw at him next, and whether his wife was sleeping with the PE teacher (she was.) He'd been interested in Molly at the time, but with all that was going on with his wife, he hadn't been in a position to say anything.

     But now things were different. It wasn't just a passing interest. He had traveled with Molly for a year, under her command. There was real trust and friendship there along with adoration. They might not have spoken about it, but they both knew where they stood with the other. Molly had certainly dropped enough hints, and Lestrade had made his feelings fairly clear. There was an air of comfort and ease between them.

     At the moment, however, he wasn't going to press the issue of where they were going next. Molly was dealing with some severe trauma left over from the Year. She seemed to have gotten better over the last few days, or at least started on that path. However, he knew from experience that it took a long time to heal. He himself still had his own issues to sort through. He knew that trying to advance things with Molly while she was trying to deal with all this would only make things worse for her. So he would wait until she was ready. He was more than happy to. For now, he was on the TARDIS, traveling through time and space, with Molly Hooper at his side. That was more than enough.

     Right now, however, he couldn't deny that he felt a flutter of joy in his chest as he and Molly fell into position, his hand on her waist, her hand on his arm. They began twirling around in time with the rest of the crowd. It took a little bit and a few mistakes, but they eventually began to pick up the simple dance the rest of the crowd was performing. He noticed Donna and the Doctor dancing across the room, but he didn't pay attention to them too long. He was more concerned with the woman in his arms.

     As they danced, Molly asked, “So, how's Earth been since I left?”

     Lestrade was a bit surprised by the question, focusing on Earth when there was so much to see on the planet around them, but he supposed she must be dulled to the excitement of new planets by now. “A bit dull, to tell you the truth,” he responded. “It's weird, though. All those people on Earth, they've got no clue what happened to them. I've run into a couple people we met during the Year, some that we saw die.” Molly's eyes grew sad, but she didn't seem too bothered by the topic of conversation, so Lestrade kept going. “It's just weird. At least we weren't in England too long, though. Would've been pretty weird to recognize somewhere we visited during the Year.”

     Molly nodded. “It'll probably happen at some point, though,” she said quietly. “Traveling on the TARDIS and all. The Doctor'll probably take us to Paris or New York or somewhere fancy, and we'll just remember all the people who died there.”

     Lestrade worried about that as well, but he knew it didn't help to dwell on thoughts like that. Instead, he joked, “At least it'll be nice to see Mount Rushmore without that ugly mug on it.” Molly cracked a grin, and the grim atmosphere was lifted. “Besides,” he added, “it's not like we have to go back to Earth anytime soon if we don't want to. There's more than enough to see in space.”

     Molly lifted her head to look at him, grinning smugly. "That reminds me. How're you enjoying your first TARDIS trip?"

     Lestrade tried to keep a straight face, but after a moment, his excitement broke through. He smiled brilliantly. "It's great," he said. “Your stories couldn't come close. I mean, look at all of those aliens. So many different species, just dancing with humans like there's no difference. Kind of gives you hope for the future. Well... you know what I mean. The general, near future, on Earth.”

     “It's not always like that,” Molly warned. “There's plenty of discrimination of hate in the universe too. Whole species that will destroy you just for being different. I already told you about the Daleks.”

     “Of course,” Lestrade agreed. “I remember what you said. I know the universe isn't perfect. But look at all of those people.” He nodded towards the dancing couples, happy and healthy and alive as they swept across the ballroom floor. “Those humans, they're here because of us. Because we saved the human race.” He was filled with a sense of warmth at the sight of all of those humans mixed among the aliens, there because of them.

     Molly uncertainly followed his gaze, looking out into the crowd. “You can really think of it that way?” she asked softly. Lestrade could hear a touch of hesitation and fear in her tone, the same tone she'd had in that cell in Torchwood.

     He longed to assure her, tell her that he was totally okay and she would be too soon enough, but he knew better than to think that would help. Not when he still hand his own hopelessness and memories to deal with. He just had better coping methods. “I have to,” he told her. “It's how I get by.”

     “And it helps?”

     He thought about the initial days after the Year ended, and where he was now. “Definitely.”

     She looked at him carefully, measuring his words. After a moment, she smiled again, a warm, grateful expression. “I'm glad you're here, Greg,” she said. To his surprise, she laid her head against him, her cheek resting against his shoulder as they slowly danced.

     He closed his eyes, smiling to himself. “Me too.”

     They stayed like that for a good minute, swaying and moving in time with the crowd, until a strange buzzing sound distracted them. They both looked up to see the chandelier shaking and trembling in mid-air, letting out an angry buzzing noise and flashing some of the lights on and off. Molly stiffened. “Uh-oh,” she said in a resigned groan.

     Before Lestrade could ask what she meant, the chandelier took off at alarming speed towards the balcony. There were screams of alarm from the crowd below. The King managed to dive out of the way before it crashed loudly into the balcony, flying across the floor into the back wall behind the balcony. There were distant sounds of wood cracking and splintering as the chandelier dragged through it, and they could see the way the chandelier had broken through the railing and floor. There was the sound of something clattering, then silence.

     For a moment, no one spoke. Then the crowd broke out into murmurs and whispers of alarm, trying to figure out what had just happened. Molly and Lestrade exchanged a glance. Over the Year, Molly had told him and Sherlock many stories of her travels. Many nights, it had been the only thing to keep them from ignoring their hunger and hopelessness, and the grim memories of those who had died in the day. In all of those stories, Lestrade had noticed a recurring trend. Trips in the TARDIS always started out innocent and fun, but then, something happened, and that's when it got dangerous. Lestrade had a feeling that something had just happened.

     “So,” he remarked, “is this the part where we start running for our lives from murderous aliens and try to save the day?”

     Molly lowered her gaze from the ceiling to look at him, wearing a mischievous grin. Lestrade had a feeling she had missed this kind of danger, so different from the hopelessness of the cell in Torchwood. “You're catching on quickly,” she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now begins the second half of this story! And how better to begin than with Lestrade's first adventure on the TARDIS?
> 
> Yeah, I wanted to bring New Earth back, for a couple of reasons, one being that it was somewhere Molly had been before the Year and I think the Doctor sort of wants to comfort her with that. Unfortunately, it's before Milo and Cheen are born, so no cameo from them; probably.
> 
> Anyway, I hope the Hoopstrade cuteness turned out alright. As I've probably told you before, I no can write romance. Any suggestions would be appreciated.


	40. The King's Folly: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team TARDIS begins to investigate the attempt on the king's life.

     The Doctor and Donna had danced briefly, but then she'd gone off to find another dance partner, and the Doctor had retreated to the sidelines, content to just watch. He wasn't sure why, maybe it had to do with the memories brought up by going to Torchwood, but he wasn't much in the mood for dancing. So instead he did his best to ignore the memories of a certain pink and yellow human and focused on the crowd. He spotted Molly and Lestrade dancing a few feet away, Molly resting her head against Lestrade's shoulder with a content smile on her face. The Time Lord smiled softly at the sight. It was good to see Molly looking happy again.

     He still felt guilty whenever he thought about the conversation in the library. That conversation should have happened a long time ago. It was his fault that things had gotten as bad as they did. He should have seen how hurt Molly was long ago. The Year had been far worse than he had imagined. Molly had been forced to make a lot of very hard choices and see a lot of people die, all because he hadn't stopped the Master in time. No wonder she had blamed him.

     The only thing he could do now was help Molly here and now, and let her know he was here for her. She already seemed happier now that she had faced her memories. Dancing with Lestrade, she looked more at peace than she had since the Year's end. For that reason alone, he was more than happy to let Lestrade stay on the TARDIS.

     That thought was chased away by the sound of the something buzzing. He flinched in surprise as the chandelier was sent whizzing into the balcony, nearly crashing into the king. The monarch managed to dive out of the way just in time, allowing the chandelier to slide past him and clatter into the wall behind him. In the moments after it happened, the dancers all burst into fearful murmuring and frenzied whispers, trying to figure out what had happened. The Doctor had been a bit thrown off by the suddenness of what happened, but after a few moments, he found himself grinning. Finally, something interesting going on.

     “Doctor!” He turned to see Molly and Lestrade pushing through the crowd to reach him. Molly was grinning almost as widely as him, and Lestrade couldn't quite cover up his interest and excitement. As they reached him, Molly asked, “Where's Donna?”

     The Time Lord shrugged. “Off dancing, somewhere. Not sure.” He felt a sudden flicker of worry. “Are you two alright?”

     Molly waved her hand dismissively. “Fine,” she assured him, “just surprised.”

     “What happened?” Lestrade asked. “I mean, do you think that was an accident?”

     The Doctor grinned. Good, Lestrade was asking the right kind of questions. “It's possible,” he allowed. “But I doubt it.”

     “It was going for King Henry,” Molly agreed. “Someone was trying to kill him.”

     The Time Lord nodded. “Most likely.

     “So what are we going to do about it?” Lestrade asked. “Ask around?”

     “Well,” the Doctor mused, “the best option would be to talk to the King himself. Let's see if we can get an audience.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     Donna could grumble and moan about the Doctor bringing them somewhere dangerous again all she wanted, but she knew the truth. She loved the danger and adventure just as much as the wacky Time Lord did. After getting kidnapped and stuffed in a basement with a man she barely knew, she was itching for a proper, running-for-her-life adventure. The minute the chandelier crashed into the balcony, she felt that little jitter of excitement that always seemed to accompany the presence of danger.

     She left her dance partner, a rather dashing-looking human man who was staring up at the balcony with wide eyes, and took off to find the Doctor and Molly. As she made her way out to the edges of the room, she heard a strange, deep voice. “ _Donna Noble. It's good to see you again._ ”

     “Huh?” The companion whirled around, trying to figure out who had spoken. A bunch of aliens were crowded around the refreshments table. The only one who seemed to be looking at her was a large, strange-looking head in a tank. “Who said that?”

     The head's lips didn't move, but his gaze didn't leave her as that voice echoed again. “ _It's been a long time, Ms. Noble._ ” Donna realized that the voice was in her own head, echoing and ancient.

     She blinked. “Who are you?” she asked warily. “How d'you know my name?”

     The face seemed to smile ever so slightly, warm and sad. “ _You have not yet met me, old friend. But I know you. It is good to see your face after so long._ ”

     "What the hell does that mean?" Donna demanded. The whole floating head that knew her name thing was getting seriously creepy. "How can you have met me but I don't know you? You're not making any sense!"

      " _Perhaps not,_ " the face agreed in a low rumble. His gaze traveled past Donna as he added, " _Here come your friends. Perhaps they will be able to explain better than I._ "

**SCENEBREAK**

     The friends in question were currently trying to find Donna so they could go talk to the King together. Molly spotted her first. "There!" She only saw a flash of ginger hair and a blue dress, but it was enough. The others let her lead them through the crowd to reach Donna.

     Donna saw them coming as they got closer. She approached them, saying, “Thank god. Could one of you please tell me why this alien thing knows my name?”

     Molly and the Doctor froze in shock. A very familiar face stood behind Donna, blinking at them with his calm, ancient eyes. Last time Molly had seen him, his tank had been broken and he was lying on the ground, defeated and dying. It was strange to see him alive and well, floating peacefully in his tank. The strangeness of time travel. Of course, if what a certain Captain had told them was true, then it was about to get a whole lot stranger.

     The Doctor stiffened behind her, while Greg merely looked curious. Molly remembered the last words the face had spoken; _“You are not alone.”_ It had ended up referring to the Master, only more incentive to believe who he was. She remembered how guilty the Doctor had felt about his death. What must he be feeling seeing him again, unable to change his fate?

     Those ancient eyes blinked slowly, staring warmly at her. “ _Molly Hooper,_ ” that old voice rumbled in her mind, stronger now than when he'd been dying. “ _It's good to see you again._ ” His gaze slipped over to the Time Lord. “ _And you. It's been a long time, my old friend._ ” The Doctor nodded stiffly at him, his expression blank.

     Greg looked between Molly and the Doctor curiously. The silence dragged on for a few moments before the detective inspector finally broke it. “Who is this?” he asked warily. “Friend of yours?”

     “ _And yours, Greg Lestrade._ ” The detective inspector turned to look at him in shock. Donna had grown quiet, seeming to feel the tenseness in the situation. “ _You've met me already, my friend. Molly can tell you better. After all, we met on the doorstep of Utopia._ ” Amusement sparkled in his eyes, and Molly could hear the old flirting tone in his voice.

     She and the Doctor exchanged a swift glance. They had been right after all. The uncertainty and wariness began to fade, replaced by warm amusement. The companion turned back to Greg, grinning as she said, “Greg Lestrade, meet the Face of Boe.”

     His eyes widened as that sank in. “Wait. Isn't that what... but he called himself...?”

     “Yep!” Molly informed him cheerfully. “The Face of Boe, also known as Captain Jack Harkness.”

     As Greg tried and failed to keep from gaping at the Face of Boe in shock, the former Jack Harkness let out a low rumble of laughter. “ _It's good to have my old friends to know who I am. I don't always have that luxury._ ” He looked to the Doctor, adding, “ _Last time I saw you, you had darker eyes and an older face, and a certain Rose Tyler at your side. You barely even glanced at me. But it was so good to see Rose again, though she looked younger than I'd ever seen her. The Doctor and Rose Tyler in the TARDIS, saving the world, as it should be._ ”

     The Doctor nodded, pain flashing in his eyes. Molly reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Donna looked between the two of them, eyebrow raised. “All right, does someone want to tell me what's going on here?” she asked brusquely.

     Molly had forgotten that Donna hadn't met Jack Harkness yet. Unfortunately, Molly hadn't mentioned him yet either, since she'd mostly known him in connection to the Year. She was about to explain when the Doctor beat her to it. His brief seriousness seemed to have faded, leaving him cheerful once again. “Donna Noble, meet the Face of Boe. He's an old friend of ours who used to be called Jack Harkness, back in the 21st Century. He looked a bit different then.”

     “A bit gorgeous, he means,” Molly teased. “Jack here is human, just really, really old. No offense,” she added to the Face in question.

     “ _None taken,_ ” the Face of Boe replied with amusement. “ _If I don't deserve the title, no one does._ ”

     Donna stared at her in shock. “Seriously? That's a human?” She glanced at him, looking him up and down. “What, are you what humans look like in the future or something.”

     “ _No, I'm merely what humans look like after they've been alive for over 5 billion years,_ ” the Face of Boe explained. “ _With a few minor mishaps along the way. After all,_ ” he added, tone turning mischievous, “ _it takes more than time to deprive Captain Jack Harkness of his looks._ ”

     “But that's impossible!” Donna protested. “How could a person possibly live that long?”

     “Jack's immortal.” Greg seemed to finally have regained control over his voice. “He can't die, nothing can kill him. If he does die, he comes right back to life. I just didn't realize, you know...”

     “What, that he'd make it to the year 5 Billion?” Molly teased.

     Donna blinked rapidly a couple of times, trying to get that through her mind, while Greg stared at the Face of Boe as though trying to reconcile the giant face in front of him with his memory of Jack Harkness. As they did that, the Doctor turned to the Face with a warm smile. “It's good to see you again, Jack,” he told him, “but we're not just here to socialize.”

     The Face of Boe's eyes suddenly glittered with mischief. “ _Of course. You're investigating the chandelier, aren't you? I would expect nothing less from you, my old friend._ ”

     “Ah, well, you know me.” The Doctor looked thoughtful for a moment. “You know, we could use your help. The way I remember it, you're a member of higher society in this time. Think you could get us all an audience with the King?”

     The Face of Boe blinked, looking thoughtful for a moment. “ _It would take some doing,_ ” he mused, “ _But yes, I should be able to convince them._ ”

     The Doctor grinned. “Fantastic!”

**SCENEBREAK**

     A few minutes later, the Face of Boe was able to teleport them into the King's chambers. Apparently, his tank thing could teleport on top of everything else. Lestrade was still trying to get it all through his head. The suave, very much human Captain Jack Harkness was now 5 Billion years old and a giant, shriveled head in a jar. It was a lot to take in. He'd known Jack was immortal, of course, but he hadn't taken the time to think of the consequences of that.

     When they arrived in the King's chambers, there were four people in there. The King sat on the edge of his bed, wearing a somewhat shocked expression, like he was still trying to figure out what had just happened. Lestrade hadn't been able to see him very well when he was up on the balcony, so he was a little surprised by his appearance now. He was mostly human, with a round sort of build, but faint purple scales around his eyes and nose and mouth, growing more bold in color closer to the eyes and nose. He also had long, elf-like ears, and a long, purple, devil-like tail. His eyes were a dark amber, with cat-like slits for pupils.

     Donna glanced incredulously at the Doctor. “Oh yeah,” she said sarcastically, “and Not-Quite-So-Tall-As-The-Last-Henry was the best they could come up with. Nothing else distinctive about him they could use.”

     The king looked up, along with the other three in the room. Two of them, an older girl and a younger girl sitting on chairs across from the bed, looked very much like him with the scales. The younger one had much paler scales and blue, human eyes, while the older had green, lizard-like eyes and horns curving above her head. They both stared at the travelers with a mixture of wariness and curiosity.

     The last person in the room was pacing by the door when they arrived, but looked up sharply as Lestrade and the others entered. If Lestrade hadn't known better, he would've said that she looked almost like a... tree. A walking tree, with pale brown bark and a branches poking back from her head like a willow tree, coming to a drooping point. She had pale blue eyes that stared untrustingly at the travelers.

     “Who are you?” she asked sharply. “What are you doing in here?” She shifted subtly, her stand becoming protective as she stood in front of the King and the two girls.

     King Henry waved his hand dismissively. “It's alright Stoff, it's fine. The Face of Boe is an old friend. He said he'd be coming.”

     The woman, Stoff, glared back at him, though her stance relaxed somewhat. “With all due respect, your majesty, you make it rather difficult to keep you safe when you just let old friends wander into your room minutes after an assassination attempt.”

     Before King Henry could answer, the Face of Boe spoke in his calm, rumbling tone. “ _Prime Minister,_ ” he said respectfully to Stoff, “ _I promise you, I mean no harm. This man with me is the Doctor._ ” Stoff didn't react, but King Henry leaned forward with interest, and the two girls' eyes widened in surprise. “ _He makes it his business to help people in situations like yours. Please, listen to him. He can help you, your majesty._ ”

     Stoff glared at them, clearly not ready to trust them, but King Henry told her somewhat testily, “Stoff, it's fine. I don't need you hanging over me like some overprotective bodyguard. I'm perfectly capable of managing my own security.” He turned to the Doctor, saying pleasantly, “Sorry about that. You're very welcome here, Doctor. This is Prime Minister Stoff, and these are my daughters, the Princesses Elizabeth,” he gestured to the eldest, “and Mary,” to the youngest.

     Lestrade raised an eyebrow. “Really?” Everyone looked at him. “King Henry with two daughters, Mary and Elizabeth?”

     King Henry looked at him oddly. “Yeah. What's wrong with that?”

     He coughed awkwardly. Clearly, they had no idea what he meant. “Nevermind.”

     The Doctor stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back and wearing a charming grin. “Your majesty,” he said amiably, “we just want to help. So if you could just tell me everyone you know about the chandelier. You're sure it was an assassination attempt?”

     King Henry let out a heavy sigh. “I don't want to believe it of anyone,” he said, “but I don't see any other way to see it.”

     “That chandelier was going fast enough to kill,” Stoff agreed grimly. “Either they were trying to kill the king, or making one hell of a statement.” She turned to face them, hands clasped firmly behind her back, facing them with shoulders squared, fully professional. “That chandelier is a high complicated bit of technology. It's not easy to make it do more than just float about. You'd have to have hooked it up to some remote device.”

     The Doctor nodded. “Makes sense. Probably some sort of chip set to trigger it at the right time, with pre-programed instructions.”

     “Precisely. Something like that would have a very short range. They'd have to be in the same room.”

     Molly's eyes widened in surprise. “So you're saying that whoever did this is still here?”

     Stoff nodded sharply. “We've placed the palace under lockdown, specifically the ballroom. One of the people in there is our culprit. Finally, we'll be able to find out who's been hounding after the King.”

     “Finally?” Donna repeated. “What, so this has happened before?”

     King Henry nodded grimly. “Never anything this spectacular, but yes. Threatening letters that somehow made it through security, poisoned wine – though security always caught it before I had a chance to drink it, thank god.”

     Lestrade narrowed his eyes. “That sounds pretty serious. You must've tried to figure out who was behind this. Do you have any suspects?”

     Stoff shrugged. “A couple. But it's hard to narrow it down. We can't be sure of motive. There's never been any sort of war or political tension on New Earth. These countries are all new. It's too early to know our neighbors very well. Any of them could've had reason to do this.”

     “Or it could be an inside job,” Molly suggested. “Some kind of power play.”

     The Prime Minister nodded unhappily. “It's certainly possible, and even probable. It had to be someone who could sneak notes past security. But we're at a loss. This is the best chance we have. Our suspect has to be in that ballroom.”

     The Doctor nodded. “All right. May I suggest, your majesty, letting us conduct our own interviews? Half of us could search the ballroom and check out the chandelier, the rest of us could stay here and look through those letters you received.”

     The King nodded. “Very well. You have my leave to search as you will. I'll have Stoff accompany you to the ballroom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Jack Harkness appears!
> 
> I'm surprised at all of you! When I set this story on New Earth, absolutely no one asked if the Face of Boe would show up, even though he's showed up in every New Earth episode. ^^ I've always wanted to see the Doctor's reaction to meeting him again with the benefit of hindsight.
> 
> Sorry if it's a little lackluster at the end, it's late and I'm tired. The usual.


	41. The King's Folly: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lestrade, Donna, and the Face of Boe go searching for clues on who attacked the King.

     Before the Face of Boe took his group down to the ballroom, the Doctor pulled him aside, as well as he could with Jack stuck in place. The King was still talking with Stoff, so he was distracted for now. Good. This was a conversation he didn't want the king to hear, so he knelt beside the tank and kept his voice low as he asked, “Do you know what's going to happen here?” He saw Molly and Lestrade look over at them curiously, clearly listening.

     The Face of Boe stared out at him with those eyes, those terribly ancient eyes. It was rare for the Doctor to find someone with eyes older and sadder than his own, but the Face of Boe managed to make him feel like a child in comparison. What did his nine hundred years have against Jack's five billion? “ _Do you mean, have you told me in the past what happens here? No, I don't know how this particular story ends. Do you?_ ”

     The Doctor gave a little half-smile. “Nah. I don't have the fate of every Earth and New Earth monarch memorized. Even I don't have enough time for that.” He grew sober again as he added, “Listen, Jack, I think we'll need your help on this one. That tank of yours can teleport, and we could use that.”

     “ _It's developed from the same technology from my Vortex Manipulator,_ ” the Face of Boe informed him.

     He blinked in surprise. “Really? Can it time travel too?”

     “ _I'm not sure,_ ” the Face admitted. “ _Theoretically, yes, but I've never tried it. I think I'm a little old to go banging around through time and space._ ”

     The Time Lord grinned. “Maybe,” he allowed. “But you're never too old to run.” He straightened up, staring at the Face of Boe with as encouraging a grin as he could manage. “Come on, what do you say? One more run, Jack Harkness, for old time's sake?” From their spots by the wall, Lestrade and Molly both looked pleased at his offer, turning to look at the Face of Boe with encouraging looks.

     The Face of Boe stared at him, some emotion like hope and nostalgia churning in his ancient eyes. For a moment, he could see the old Jack Harkness shining through. “ _I never could say no to you, Doctor,_ ” he said finally. “ _I could never say no to you._ ”

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Face of Boe transported Lestrade and Donna to the ballroom. The guests seemed to have been made aware that they weren't allowed to leave, but no one seemed to know why. Lestrade could hear them whispering, glancing curiously at the Face and his companions.

     “ _Time to get to work,_ ” the Face rumbled behind him. “ _One of them must know something._ ”

     Lestrade glanced back at him, trying to keep from staring too openly. He was still trying to connect in his mind the giant, wrinkled face in front of him with the man he'd met and fought beside at the beginning of the Year.

     Clearly, he wasn't the only one. Donna stared at the face, looking like she wasn't sure whether to be be confused or irritated. “So how does that work then? You being human?”

     The Face's eyes glittered with amusement. “ _That, Ms. Noble, is a long and complicated story that we regrettably do not have time for. When this is over, I can explain myself better. For now, however, there is work to be done._ ” Donna gave him an uncertain glance, then nodded once.

     Lestrade looked out into the crowd, throwing himself into detective mode. For being on an adventure through time and space, the mechanics of it all felt oddly familiar. It felt like he was working on a case, scouting out witnesses, figuring out who in the crowd was most likely to give him answers. The detective inspector finally settled on a small, scaly-looking alien with large, owl-like eyes and a server's uniform. He was standing by the grand, wooden double doors to the ballroom. Lestrade had a feeling that he had been the one greeting guests at the door. That was the person to ask about suspicious characters.

     “Come on,” he told Donna. The ginger woman followed him as he approached the lizard-alien in question. Lestrade hadn't known Donna very long, but from the little he'd heard about her, he guessed she was going to be a very interesting person. Anyone who could stand up to Sherlock Holmes and somehow inexplicably befriend him was definitely a force to be reckoned with. He hoped she wouldn't mind him being on board too much. She was the only one who didn't know him, after all, and she might feel that he was intruding on her place on board.

     The lizard-alien looked up as they approached. His huge, yellow eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I don't remember seeing you come in,” he greeted abruptly.

     He'd been right, this was the person to talk to. Before Lestrade could explain himself, Donna told the alien easily, “It's alright, we're with the police.” Catching on, Lestrade pulled out his badge, showing it quickly to the alien before stuffing it in his pocket again. He hoped the alien hadn't noticed that the badge was just a few billion years too old.

     The alien still looked uncertain, though the open hostility had faded. “Why would his Majesty have called the police? I thought he wanted to keep this hushed up.”

     “He's changed his mind,” Lestrade explained smoothly. “So, what's your name then?”

     “Jor,” the lizard-alien supplied.

     “Alright then, Jor,” Lestrade began, slipping easily into interrogation mode. He was no Sherlock Holmes, but this was what he was good at. “Have you been standing by the doors the whole time?”

     Jor nodded. “My shift started when the party did. I've seen everyone come in.”

     “Any unsavory characters?” he asked.

     The lizard-alien shrugged. “No more than usual,” he commented with a bit of snark. At Lestrade and Donna's questioning looks, he explained, “This world is brand-new, every country new, pulling from the adventurous, aspiring minds of the rest of the universe. The social hierarchy hasn't really been sussed out yet. Everyone in this room is fighting to get to the top of the food chain.” There was thinly veiled disgust in his tone.

     “Sounds like starting at a new school,” Donna commented with amusement. “Everyone trying to figure out who's popular and who's not.”

     “Essentially, yes,” Jor agreed. “With about the same level of maturity. The dress code is fancier is all.”

     Lestrade nodded thoughtfully. “Alright. Now, tell me, is there anyone who might try to get even higher on the totem pole?”

     “You mean, do you think anyone here would try to take out the king?” Jor asked shrewdly. “I don't know if any of these dimwits are that ambitious. But..” He trailed off, looking thoughtful.

     “What?” Donna asked.

     Slowly, Jor explained, “The King had a meeting with the Parliament a few days ago. I don't know what they were talking about, but I know the King came out of pretty irritated, and Stoff looked pretty furious.”

     Lestrade blinked in surprise. “The Prime Minister?”

     Jor nodded. “I figured it was just some argument over taxes or something like that, but it's been like that for a while now, come to think of it. Stoff and the King just don't get on well, never have. It's been getting worse though. Stoff looked right pissed off when she came out of that meeting.”

     Lestrade and Donna exchanged a swift glance. Could Stoff be behind the attack? He wasn't sure, but it was somewhere to start, at least. “Thanks,” he told Jor before they turned and walked away. As they made their way through the crowd back to the Face of Boe, Lestrade tried to think of what their next step should be.

     “ _Any luck?_ ” the Face of Boe asked when they reached him.

     Donna nodded. “Apparently, Stoff and the King really don't like each other, and it's been getting worse.”

     The Face of Boe blinked in surprise. “ _You think Stoff could be behind this?_ ”

     “Maybe,” Lestrade told him. He regarded the Face of Boe curiously, remembering how the King had referred to him as an old friend, and how easily he had gained access to the King's chambers. “How well do you know her?”

     “ _Not terribly well,_ ” the Face of Boe admitted. “ _She was only elected a few years ago, and she's not one for fancy social events. However, I have known the King since he was a child. I have always been popular with the royal family, the result of being known by most of their notable members over the last 5 billion years. Even when the countries of Earth dispersed and the royal family was placed out of power, I kept tabs on them. I figured this day would come, when one of them found power again. The King is a kind enough man, but not especially clever. If Stoff truly is behind this, he won't suspect it until it's too late. We have to protect him._ ”

     Lestrade nodded. “Then we have to be careful. We can't tip Stoff off. If she thinks we're going to warn the King, she might kill him.”

     “If she's actually behind this,” Donna reminded him sharply.

     The detective inspector gave her a grateful nod. “Right, thanks. We need evidence.” He took a moment to think. If this were a case back home, he'd have whole teams of people to work with, wiping down the chandelier for prints and going through security camera footage. But he didn't have the whole of Scotland Yard at his disposal right now. It was just him, Donna, and the Face of Boe. This would need a different approach than he was used to. He couldn't cover every base, so he'd have to focus on what was most important to investigate.

     Security cameras would be the obvious first idea in a normal investigation. He could see a couple at the top of the ballroom, discreetly hidden away in the wall. At least one of them should have caught whoever had meddled with the chandelier. However, the way they were hanging limply against the wall without moving made Lestrade think that they had probably been switched off. That alone was enough to suggest that someone with power in the palace had done this, but not enough to convict Stoff. He needed more.

      _Hang on,_ he thought. Those cameras might have been switched off during the attack, but there was one other time they might have still been on.

     He turned to the Face of Boe, asking in a low voice, “Do you know how to get to the security room?(asdf)”

     The ancient face blinked calmly at him, rumbling, “ _I've been there once before,_ ” he told him. “ _I remember the way._ ”

     “Why?” Donna asked curiously. “You think it'll show us who fixed up that chandelier to fall?”

     “Doubtful,” he replied. “But I think it might give us a lead to follow. Come one.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     As the Doctor talked with the king and Stoff, Molly found herself observing the king's chambers. The room was huge, with a high roof with a skylight that shone directly on the appropriately king-sized bed. It was shining moonlight, even though the last time Molly had looked at a clock it had only been six pm. Most likely, it was a holo-window. They'd run into a few of those before in the future.

     She brought her gaze back down to the room itself. The bed was a canopy bed, with a thin, satin sheet draping along the sides. The blankets were a deep, velvet red, lined with golden thread. The walls were wooden with a smooth polish, a pretty, silvery color that didn't remind her of any tree on earth. There were three grand bookshelves lined up against the wall, a darker gray color, elegantly carved. Molly stepped closer to the shelves, bending forward slightly to read the spines. Several of the books were unfamiliar to her, but to her surprise, a few familiar names popped out at her. She looked fondly at the copy of, “The Complete Works of Shakespeare,” wondering if her sonnet was there, still as famous as it had been in her time. There was also Machiavelli's “The Prince,” Victor Hugo's “Les Miserables,” and Leroux's “The Phantom of the Opera.”

     She reached out and gently brushed her fingers against the spine of “The Phantom of the Opera,” smiling softly. For all of the wonder and excitement of the future, sometimes it was comforting to know that little pieces of the past would always remain.

     “Miss Molly?” a young voice asked. Molly looked down to see Princess Mary beside her, her blue eyes wide as she stared up at the time traveler.

     With a smile, Molly crouched down to be at Mary's level. “Yes, Princess?”

     The little girl stole uncertain glances towards her father and the Doctor, her voice dropping to a low whisper. “Is that man really the Doctor?”

     Molly blinked in surprise. “Yes he is,” she assured her. “Why? Do you know about the Doctor?”

     It was the king who answered her. “Of course we have,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “The legend of the Doctor has been passed down through the royal family as long as anyone can remember.”

     “Doctor stories are the best stories,” Princess Elizabeth added cheerfully. “Traveling through time and space defending the galaxy, one human companion at his side. No matter what happens, the Doctor and his companion always saves the day.” Molly smiled sadly at that, wishing that could only be true. She caught the Doctor's suddenly tight expression in the corner of her eye and knew he was thinking the same thing. He glanced guiltily at her, which meant he was probably thinking about the Year That Never Was.

     The king nodded with a slightly distant expression. “The royal family has met the Doctor several times throughout time. Queen Elizabeth I wrote about him several times, and Queen Victoria went so far as to ban him from the British Isles.” Stoff glanced between the king and the Doctor, expression curious, but said nothing.

     Molly remembered meeting Elizabeth I, but the second story was news to her. She gave the Doctor an inquiring glance, raising an eyebrow. “You got banished by Queen Victoria?”

     The Time Lord rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, giving a sheepish, lopsided grin. “Yeah, that was a bit before I met you,” he said, which Molly took to mean _”when I was with Rose.”_ “Got knighted and banished on the same day. There might have been a werewolf involved.”

     “So basically just another day at the office, right?” Molly teased. Really, none of the Doctor's stories fazed her anymore, although it was a bit surprising to learn he had been knighted. It brought back memories of her first real trip with the Doctor, when he had introduced himself as Sir Doctor of TARDIS and her only as Molly Hooper. At the time, she had thought it was because she was just the companion, not worthy of a fancy title. Now she wondered if he had just been showing off his actual title.

     He grinned back at her. “Basically, yeah.”

     “So the stories are true?” Princess Mary asked with wide eyes. Princess Elizabeth was also staring at them, her excited, reptilian gaze darting between Molly and the Doctor. Even the king looked hopeful as he waited for their answer.

     The Doctor hesitated, clearly not in the mood to brag now that Rose and the Year had been brought up, so Molly stepped in. “Most of them,” she assured them. “The Doctor always does his very best to help people.” She gave him a quick glance, trying to assure him that she meant it, that she knew he had done his best, even when she had doubted him.

     “I hope so,” the king sighed. He sank down onto the bed, the mattress creaking slightly, leaning his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. The monarch suddenly seemed much more tired now that the events of the day were starting to hit him. “I think I need all the help I can get.”

     The Time Lord's somber mood faded, his air of cheerful confidence returning as he grinned at the king. “Don't worry, your majesty. We'll find out who did this, and we'll stop them, whoever it is.”

     The king looked up at him, measuring his expression for a few moments before giving a heavy sigh. “Yes,” he agreed. “Whoever it is, they'll have to face the punishments.”

     For some reason, Stoff looked worried at this. She squared her shoulders, turning and striding towards the door, mumbling something about, “going to check on those friends of yours.” Molly watched her go with narrowed eyes. She wasn't sure why, but something about her exit made the companion uneasy. _Greg, Donna, Jack,_ she thought to herself, _I hope you guys know to look after yourselves out there._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... am so, so sorry. I have no excuse.
> 
> I have two reasons why this chapter took so long to release.
> 
> 1) I got really blocked on this chapter. That happens sometimes.  
> 2) The podcast "Welcome to Night Vale" has dragged me kicking and screaming into the void of obsession and the black hole that is their fandom. I have been so obsessed with Night Vale, I haven't been able to focus on Doctor Who and Sherlock stuff anymore. I just managed to make myself type this out, finally.
> 
> I will try to be more timely with my next chapter, I really will. In the meantime, I suggest you all check out the podcast "Welcome to Night Vale," because it is truly fantastic.


	42. The King's Folly: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lestrade and Donna continue their investigation.

     The Face of Boe transported them to the security observation room in a matter of moments. Donna couldn't help but stumble a bit as she moved away from the tank holding the face. It may have been a faster and more convenient mode of travel than the TARDIS, but it wasn't any smoother. The face seemed to see what she was thinking, as he said in a voice tinted with amusement, “ _Time travel technology has improved since the initial vortex manipulators, but they never quite worked out the turbulence._ ”

     Donna glanced at him. The enormous, wrinkled old face still creeped her out a bit. “Good to know,” she said, even though she had no idea what a vortex manipulator was. There were so many questions she could have asked, but for now, she figured she'd focus on the mission at hand. Figuring out how a human could become a giant old face would have to wait until later. She turned to Lestrade, asking, “Alright, we're here, now what?”

     The security room itself was fairly bare. There weren't a bunch of computer screens and keyboards and some bored guard sipping on coffee. Instead, there was a sort of holographic screen in the center of the room that wrapped around in a circle. This circular screen surrounded an alien with a wide, blue body with leathery skin. He was sort of blob-shaped, with only two, tentacle-like appendages that waved lazily at his side. The upper half of his body was covered in eyes, dozens upon dozens of eyes, all of them a dark gold with a small, round pupil. With eyes on all side of what seemed to be his head, the creature was able to view all parts of the circular screen at once. When they had zapped into the room, a couple of the eyes closest to them turned to glance their way, then slid lazily back to the screen.

     Lestrade stepped confidently toward the creature. “Hello,” he said as he pulled out his badge again, flashing it at the thing. “I'm Detective Inspector Lestrade, here with the police, and this is my fellow officer, Detective Inspector Noble.” Donna felt a flicker of surprise as the title, and couldn't help but preen a little, drawing herself to her fullest height and squaring her shoulders importantly. Lestrade didn't bother to introduce the Face of Boe; whether because he didn't think he could pass as an officer, or because he thought the creature already knew the Face, she wasn't sure.

     The many-eyed alien glanced at the badge when it was shown, a few scattered eyes looking up at Lestrade's face. The eyes blinked once, which seemed like some sort of acknowledgment, though how Donna wasn't sure.

     “Thank you,” Lestrade said, seeming to sense the same thing. He crossed his arms over his chest, taking on an air of authority. “We're investigating the chandelier crash today. We were wondering if we could ask you some questions.”

     A few moments, and then another blink. Donna decided to step in at this point; after all, she was supposed to be an officer too. “Did you get any footage of who hijacked the chandelier?”

     The eyes narrowed, the lids drooping morosely. _That's a no, then,_ Donna thought. One of the tentacles waved at a portion of the circular screen. Parts of the screen were blacked out, showing grainy static. The cameras must have been switched off.

     Lestrade was watching the screen with interest. “Is this all being recorded?” he asked the alien. When it blinked at him, he continued, “Then see if you can pull up the last meeting the King had.” The creature's eyes widened slightly, presumably in surprise, then gave a slow blink.

     As he waved a tentacle in front of the screen, the images on the screen began running backwards, rewinding through a few days, until it apparently hit the right day. A tentacle pointed at one section of the screen. Lestrade and Donna got closer, peering at the section that was indicated. In a small, posh-looking conference room, the King, Stoff, and various other humans and aliens were seated around a long table. Some were physically present, others were there via hologram screen.

     On the screen, a small, furry alien with wide blue eyes growled, “ _Prime Minister, I still don't understand why you called this meeting. I don't see how you're planning to change anyone's mind on the subject._ ”

     Stoff was sitting stiffly a few chairs away. Her arms were on the table in front of her, hands clasped tightly together. Even on the small screen, Donna could see how tensely the tree alien held herself. “ _We're here to discuss the bill. You said you would consider my proposal._ ”

     “ _We considered it,_ ” a hologram of some sort of bird-like alien with wings told her. “ _But as his Majesty said, this is a new start for everyone. We don't need to antagonize anyone by throwing more money into the army._ ”

     “ _But if we don't start funding them better,_ ” Stoff argued, “ _the new ships won't get the adjustments they need. We already knew the new model would need more fueling. That's going to take more money._ ”

     The bird-like alien started to speak, but the furry alien stopped her. “ _We are not convinced that these are your reasons for asking for these funds._ ”

     Stoff stiffened even more, her carefully composed expression cracking. “ _What?_ ”

     A bright yellow alien with scales coughed delicately before explaining, “ _We have reason to believe that you've been embezzling funds from the army._ ”

     For a moment, Stoff looked worried. Her gaze darted to the King, before her expression hardened, taking on a fierce edge. She looked furious. “ _Am I under investigation?_ ” she asked bluntly.

     “ _Not yet,_ ” the bird-like alien told her. “ _We're trying to deal with this as delicately as possible._ ”

     “ _But if we find anything incriminating against you, we_ will _take action, Prime Minister,_ ” the furry alien said sharply. “ _Consider yourself under scrutiny._ ”

     Stoff glared at the king for several more moments before nodding stiffly. The meeting carried on, but Donna and Lestrade turned away from the screen, facing back towards the Face of Boe.

     “Well, that explains why they both looked so pissed after that meeting,” Donna realized. It fit with what Jor had said, and it was another mark against Stoff.

     Lestrade looked thoughtful. “If Stoff really did steal from army funds, then there's going to be some kind of trail."

     " _You think you can find it?_ " the Face of Boe asked.

     After a moment's thought, Lestrade shook his head. "Probably not. It would take too long to figure out the technology we'd need to track funds, and how the economy works in this era. Even if we knew how to work it, it wouldn't matter. We're not trying to prove her motive, we're trying to prove whether she tried to kill the king."

     Donna couldn't help but be impressed by his calm, and how he was trying to figure out the logical way to move forwarding. She'd met Lestrade nearly two weeks ago, but most of that time had been spent either being kidnapped or sitting around the TARDIS trading small talk.

     She hadn't really gotten a chance to know him all that well beyond the little they'd talked on the TARDIS. But now, seeing him thrust into the middle of an adventure like this, she was starting to get a sense of what kind of guy he was. He was no Sherlock Holmes, but he didn't need to be. He was kinder, more thoughtful, not quite as smart as Sherlock, but smart enough. And he was better at working well with others than the former companion.

     Despite all that, Donna couldn't help but miss Sherlock, just that little bit. He was a prick, but he was her friend. She didn't mind admitting that she'd miss having him around. Lestrade seemed okay enough, but she was still trying to get used to not having Sherlock there to banter with. Still, it looked like Lestrade would be easier to get along with, and he seemed like he was going to be a pretty useful companion. That was enough for her.

     “So we need evidence to show the king?” she asked.

     Lestrade nodded. “Whatever we can do to prove that she's the one that tried to kill the king.”

     “Well, if she really rigged that chandelier, she must've used something, tools or something,” Donna reasoned. “Maybe she stashed it somewhere?”

     The detective inspector gave her a quick nod. “Good idea. We should check her room first.” He turned to the many-eyed alien. “Where is the Prime Minister staying?” The creature pointed a tentacle to another part of the screen, which showed a currently unoccupied room. Lestrade looked over it carefully before glancing back at the Face of Boe. “Think you can transport us there?”

     “ _If I know what it looks like,_ ” the face replied, “ _absolutely._ ”

**SCENEBREAK**

     “So,” the Doctor said, clapping his hands together eagerly, “how about those threatening letters you got, eh?”

     King Henry looked up in surprise, then nodded. “Right, I almost forgot.” He crossed over to the nightstand beside his bed, pulling open a small drawer and retrieving a neat stack of letters. “I haven't read all of them all the way through,” he said as he handed them to the Time Lord. “They get a little repetitive after a while. 'You're ruining this country,' 'Step down or pay the price,' 'Death to the king,' etc, etc. It gets old fast. But if you think there's something new you'll find there, you're welcome to take a look.”

     “Thanks,” the Doctor said. He picked out half of the letters and handed them to Molly. She took her stack to the bookshelf, sitting down and leaning her back against it as she started reading through the letters. The king was right, most of them were vague, generic sort of threats. They started to blend together after a while.

     A few minutes later, however, the Doctor called, “Molly!” He motioned her over, pointing to a section on the letter he was holding. Molly scanned over it briefly.  
      _”A cowardly, poisonous canker like you has no place ruling a country!”_ Molly raised an eyebrow, glancing at the Doctor. “What about it?”

     In a low voice, the Doctor explained, “A canker is a type of plant disease where an area of dead tissue grows over time. It's not exactly common human slang.”

     Molly's eyes widened as she caught on. “But it's something a tree would say.” The king glanced over at them curiously, but he didn't seem to have heard them. She still lowered her voice more as she asked, “So, you really think Stoff could've done this?”

     “I'm not sure,” the Doctor admitted. “But it's possible.”

     A shock ran through her as she realized something. “Wait, Stoff left a while back to check on Lestrade and Donna. If there's a chance that Stoff's behind this, we have to warn them.”

     The Doctor's expression tightened. They both stood stood, the Time Lord calling over his shoulder, “We'll be back, have to check on something,” as they hurried out of the king's chambers.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Stoff briskly strode toward the ballroom, throwing the double doors open in front of her. The crowd turned to glance at her as she entered, whispering hushed questions, but she ignored them in favor of searching for three particular specimens. Those friends of the king's didn't seem to be anywhere, she noted irritably.

     She called over the servant at the door, Jor if she recalled correctly. “There were three people in here earlier,” she said curtly. “Two humans, an older man and a red-haired woman, and one of the Boekind. Did you see where they went?”

     Jor eyed her warily, only causing to irritate her further. “They said there was something they wanted to check, but that's all I know.” The suspicious look he was giving her didn't make her feel any better about not finding the king's friends. What had Jor told them?

     Before she could question him further, her communicator buzzed. She picked it out of her pocket, holding it against her ear. “What is it?”

     A pause. “They looked at _what_?!” she snapped into the communicator. Another pause, then she clicked the thing shut, shoving it back into her pocket. Her branches rattled ominously as she stormed out of the room, slamming the doors shut behind her. She was going to finish this, one way or another.

**SCENEBREAK**

     It only took a few moments to arrive in Stoff's room. The moment they materialized, Lestrade's gaze swept over the room, taking in all the exits, and any dark corner where someone might be hiding. It was a habit he'd picked up during the Year, a fairly useful one to have as far as he was concerned. For now, it was nice to know that Stoff or someone else wasn't hiding around, watching them investigate.

     “Alright, look around, see if you can find anything she could've used to rig the chandelier,” Lestrade told Donna as he turned and approached a dresser. “Don't touch anything, though,” he added on second thought. “You don't want to leave any fingerprints.”

     “Oh yes,” Donna replied sarcastically. “It's so easy to search a room properly without touching anything.” He threw her a withering look, but she had a point. He had to stop thinking like a cop, start thinking like a companion.

     “Ah, forget it,” he said, pulling open a drawer. “It won't matter anyway, we're going to explain everything to the king later. Just don't touch any tools, if you find them. We can use the prints on those to prove Stoff did it.”

     He rooted through the drawers, trying to find something, anything recognizable as a tool or electronic, but it was mostly clothing. Before he could give up and try somewhere else, his fingers brushed against something cold and metal. “Hold on, I think I've got something.” He pushed aside the various clothing to uncover a couple of thin, metal things that looked vaguely tool-like. He didn't know much about machinery or tools, especially not so far in the future, but these looked like they could definitely fit the category.

     “Me too.” Lestrade looked over to see Donna using a sock to hold up a small, metal box with a few buttons and knobs. He followed her lead, covering his hand with a shirt he found before he picked up the tools.

     The Face of Boe looked at the device Donna was holding with interest. “ _That looks like a remote. It could've been used to trigger the chandelier from within a certain range._ ”

     Donna looked up, eyes wide with a sudden thought. “So wait, if you had to be in the ballroom to use this, then this was in the ballroom when the chandelier went off. It had to be. So someone had to move it here afterward.”

     Lestrade realized where her thought was going. For all that Sherlock had apparently called this woman an idiot, she wasn't half bad at this. “The only people who were in the ballroom at the time and have been allowed to leave it since the attack are Stoff and the king,” Lestrade said. “It had to be her. No one else had the opportunity to hide this here.” The investigation was done. They had found their culprit. So Lestrade wasn't sure why he felt like it was all too easy.

     Shaking away that thought, he turned to the Face of Boe. “Let's get this evidence back to the king.” The face gave a slight nod of accession. He and Donna each put a hand on the metal tank, and they all began shimmering and fading out of existence as the Face teleported them out of the room.

     Mid-flight, there was a sharp bump, then they were all jerked back into reality. Lestrade and Donna were sent stumbling away from the tank, heads suddenly dizzy. “What the hell was that?!” Donna sputtered as they tried to regain their footing.

     The Face of Boe was coughing too, a deep, thunderous sound. “ _I'm not sure,_ ” he admitted. “ _But I think my tank has been hijacked. We were forced to land here; I can't teleport us out._ ”

     Lestrade felt a shiver of fear at that. It wasn't helped by looking at where they were. They were in a bare room with stone walls and a door without a window. Without having to be told, he knew where they were. “Why is it always the dungeons with you people,” he sighed, without much malice behind it. “Two trips I've been on, and both times I've ended up in a cell.”

     Donna snorted in agreement, but before she could say anything, there was a sharp _click_ as the door was locked. A mechanic, female voice chirped out cheerfully, “ _Warning; unauthorized access to the dungeons._ ” The wall behind them began shuddering, creaking and groaning as it began to creep towards them.

     Lestrade and Donna instinctively came to stand protectively in front of the Face of Boe. “It's going to crush us!” Donna realized.

     “ _If you do not identify yourselves, you will be eliminated,_ ” the voice informed them cheerily. “ _Thank you for your cooperation._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, sorry for taking so long to post again. I got busy, and then I got distracted. The usual.
> 
> Anyway, sorry that this episode is taking so long. If the next part isn't the final chapter for this episode, then the one after it will be. Then we can move on to other things.


	43. The King's Folly: Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna and Lestrade try to find a way out of the cell before they get crushed.

     “Teleport us out of here!”

     “ _I can't,_ ” the Face of Boe replied sharply. “ _Something's keeping me grounded. I can't move._ ”

     Lestrade's gaze turned desperately back to the face, looking over his tank. He froze as he noticed a small metal chip near the bottom of his tank. Crouching down beside the face, he checked the chip, which now boasted a blinking red light. “This must be what's keeping you grounded,” he realized. “Can you tell me how to disable it?”

     “ _It'll take too long,_ ” the Face of Boe told him.

     The detective inspector cursed under his breath. “There has to be something we can do!”

     “Oi, Detective Gray Hair!” Lestrade looked up in surprise to see Donna by the wall, pushing against it with her back and shoulder. “Quit chatting and help me out!”

     Lestrade shook his head, getting to his feet. Donna was right, they needed to focus on stopping that wall. Fixing Jack's tank could wait. He dropped the tools he had brought with him and rushed over to the wall, putting both hands on it and pushing against it with everything he had. The wall slowed in its push towards them, but it didn't stop. He could feel the effort of it beginning to tire his arms, and he could see Donna struggling beside him. “This isn't working,” Donna growled, shoving her shoulder harder against the stone wall.

     The detective inspector looked around, trying to figure out another way to stop the wall. Maybe there was something to block the wall, or jam between the wall and the floor to get it stuck. He could try using the tools they'd found, but they were too thick. There wasn't enough room between the wall and the floor. Instead, he redoubled his efforts, shifting so that his shoulder and back were pressed hard against the wall. It didn't help. Lestrade could still feel the stone wall moving against him, pushing him slowly further and further into the cell.

     “ _If you do not identify yourselves, you will be eliminated,_ ” the far too chipper voice reminded them.

     “Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, Donna Noble, and the Face of Boe!” Lestrade called out to the voice, gritting his teeth against the effort of holding the wall back. “We're friends of the king!”

     There was a series of beeps, then the voice replied, “ _Identity not found in memory banks or voice recognition software. If you do not identify yourselves, you will be eliminated. Thank you for your cooperation._ ” Lestrade let out a frustrated grunt, closing his eyes and pushing all of his weight against the wall.

     “What the hell kind of security is this?!” Donna demanded. She was crouched beside the wall, her back and forearms pressed against the wall and her jaw clenched with effort, but somehow she still had the energy to rant. “Who in their right mind starts to build a cell and thinks, 'Hmm, I've got a great idea, let's rig it so it can crush people to death!'”

     The wall paused, just for a moment. Lestrade opened his eyes in surprise. He looked back to see that the wall had hit the edge of the Face of Boe's tank. For a moment, he felt a flutter of hope. Maybe that would be enough to hold it back.

     Moments later, the wall began its steady trudge forward again, pushing both humans and the face forward. Jack's tank scraped and creaked in protest, but it wasn't able to hold the wall back. Lestrade looked back at the opposite wall. Jack's tank wouldn't be able to stop it; they would all be crushed.

     Without warning, there was a _click_ as the door opened again, and a rush of footsteps as someone new entered the room. Lestrade barely had time to consider escaping through the open door before he remembered that Jack wouldn't be able to leave. He and Donna wouldn't leave him.

     Donna called out to the new person in the room, “Doctor, is that you? Help us out!” Lestrade didn't open his eyes to see who it was, but he could hear them hurry over to the wall, could hear them grunt as they joined in the effort to hold the wall back.

     “ _If you do not identify yourselves, you will be eliminated,_ ” the voice repeated.

     Lestrade was about to shout something less than friendly at the voice, but the new person in the room beat them to it. “Prime Minister Stoff, authorization code 49825A4. I order you to cease all security measures in cell 4B!”

     There was a pause, then a low series of beeps. The wall stopped. “ _Authorization recognized. Security measures have been ceased. Thank you for your cooperation._ ”

     For several moments, no one said anything. Lestrade slid down against the wall, sitting on the floor and panting as he tried to get his breath back. He could hear Donna doing the same. That left only the Face of Boe in any state to address the newcomer. “ _Greetings, Prime Minister,_ ” he greeted coolly. “ _We did not expect to see you here._ ”

     “I expect not,” the tree replied stiffly.

     Lestrade finally opened his eyes again. With light streaming in from the now-open door, it was easy to see Stoff standing there, leaning with her back against the wall, somewhat less winded than the two humans. When she noticed his glance, she crossed her arms over her chest, expression becoming composed and accusing.

     “What did you save us for?” Donna asked, getting slowly to her feet. “Weren't you the one trying to kill us in the first place?”

     Stoff gave her a level glare. “I can see why you'd think that, but no.” She looked around warily, warning them, “It's not safe to talk here. There's surveillance everywhere, and not all of it is friendly. We need to leave.”

     “We can't,” Lestrade told her. “The Face of Boe's tank was hijacked. I think it's because of that chip there.” He gestured to the still-blinking chip near the bottom of Jack's tank.

     The tree pushed off the wall, striding towards the Face of Boe and crouching beside him. She straed at the chip for a few moments before pulling out some sort of phone-like device from her pocket. She pressed a few buttons and held the phone-device against the chip. There was a _whirring_ and radio static, then the blinking light went dark. Stoff gave a small grin of triumph. “You should be fine to move now,” she informed the Face of Boe.

     Lestrade got to his feet, staring at the tank curiously. “What did you do?”

     “It was being fed by a radio signal,” she replied. “I used my communicator to cancel it out. I've had to do this more often than you'd think.” She stood, telling the face firmly, “Take us two floors above this room, four rooms to the left.”

     The Face of Boe nodded. “ _Very well._ ” Lestrade and Donna hurried to put their hands on the tank in time as the face teleported them out. The cell faded away, replaced by the security room they had been in not that long ago. The many-eyed alien was still in the middle of the room, in the center of the circular screen. A couple scattered golden eyes turned to glance at them as they entered, blinking slowly.

     Lestrade looked around with confusion. “What are we doing in here?”

     Stoff strode toward the screen, glancing over it with a sharp glance. “This is the safest place in the palace to talk without being heard by the wrong people,” she replied without looking up. “Who would think to survey the surveillance room?” Apparently satisfied, she turned to face the travelers, arms folded neatly in front of her chest. "Alright. You've got questions."

     Donna, not being one to hold back, launched right into it. "Yeah, weren't you the one that tried to kill the king in the first place?"

     Stoff looked less than impressed. "If I were, do you really think I would've just saved you? Next question."

     "If you didn't hijack the chandelier," Lestrade tried, "then why did we find the evidence in your room?”

     The Prime Minister nodded to him. “There's the one I was looking for. I didn't put it there. It was planted by someone. Either the king or someone working for him.”

     “King Henry?” Lestrade repeated with surprise. “Why would he frame you for an attempt on his life?”

     “I don't know,” the tree said irritably, although he didn't think her anger was directed at him. “Power, most likely. If you make the country's first Prime Minister seem like a traitor, how likely are you to appoint another one instead of just letting the king take over? But this isn't anything new. He has been working for a long time to make me seem untrustworthy. You saw the recording of that meeting. Parliament didn't want to hear a word I had to say. They'd already decided that I was lying. They've been turned against me. I'm watched constantly, and not just by Parliament's orders. My room has been bugged, security keeps tabs on me. I've been boxed in with no chance to prove that I haven't done anything wrong. Now I've been set up to look like I tried to assassinate our king. At this rate, I'm not just going to lose my position, I'm going to lose my freedom. Until you got here, I didn't think anyone would believe me if I tried to defend myself."

     Lestrade, Donna, and the Face of Boe listened with growing sympathy. " _What changed your mind?_ "

     Stoff actually smiled a little at that. "The Doctor, actually. He told King Henry that he would find whoever attacked him, no matter who it was. He's strange, your friend. There's a certain honesty to him. I get the feeling that if he had to track down an entire army and hold them responsible one by one, he would do it. Anyway, it made me realize, here's somebody who hasn't been subjected to all the rumors and conditioning and set-ups. These people can look at the evidence without bias and realize I'm telling the truth.”

     “Alright, but what makes you think the king is behind all this?” Donna asked. “He's the one that got attacked. Y'think he did that to himself?”

     “Why not?” Stoff challenged. “It's not the first time a monarch has done something like that to make a statement.” Lestrade thought about Sherlock's faked death, and the reasons behind it. “I've suspected the king for a while, but I never had strong proof until I saw him slip that chip onto the Face of Boe's tank. That's when I knew for sure.”

     “Wait, the king tried to kill us just now?!” Donna exclaimed.

     “Yes. It took me a while to figure out it was him. At first, it was all too vague to pin down. But he's not the only ones with eyes in the palace. I figured out that he was the one spreading rumors and making people doubt me. There wasn't much I could do, of course. I didn't have any proof. But then the letters started appearing. They were vague enough on their own. But the fact that so many of them had gotten past security was odd, and I started noticing little pieces in them. Tree slang. It was starting to point towards me. Of course, I knew I didn't do it, and the only other person who had reason to slander me was the king. Plus the fact that of all the times his food or wine got poisoned, it always got caught way before it ever reached his lips, but the threatening letters never got close to security. It had to be him. And now, I'm sure of it.”

     Something didn't quite add up for Lestrade. Slowly, he asked, “Why would he try to kill us? We were just about to tell him we thought you had done it. It would've been exactly what he wanted to hear.”

     “And if he could be sure that's what you were going to tell him, I'm sure he would have let you,” Stoff explained. “But I think he realized that you and the Doctor are too much of a wild card. You aren't totally under his control, you haven't been subject to the doubt he's been seeding. He figured it was better to kill you and blame it on me, further cementing my guilt, than to let you live and risk you uncovering the truth.”

     Donna's eyes widened. “Wait, but if he thinks Molly and the Doctor are a threat to him, they won't have any idea. We have to warn them!”

     Lestrade felt a rush of fear. _Molly._ He pulled out his cell phone, flipping through his contacts to find Molly's number. His phone hadn't been super-charged yet like in Molly's stories of her days in the TARDIS, but Molly's had, so he figured the call would still go through. As he looked, he asked, “By the way, how did you know that we had watched the recording of the meeting?”

     Stoff gestured to the many-eyed alien still watching the surveillance screen. “Jeff called me and told me you were up here.”

     Donna eyed the creature dubiously. “Wait, Jeff?”

     “Yeah. That's his name. Why?”

     Lestrade and Donna exchanged a look. To think such a strange and so obviously not human a creature could have as common a name as Jeff was odd, but there was no point in dwelling on it. “No reason,” Lestrade lied.

     The Prime Minister smiled as she looked back at Jeff. “He's an old friend, one of the few I have left here. He's the reason I was able to save you in time. He called me and told me where you were on the cameras after you left. Luckily, I figured King Henry might try to stuff you down there, so I was close enough to help.”

     The phone rang a few times before Molly picked up. “ _Hello?_ ”

**SCENEBREAK**

     Lestrade and Donna weren't anywhere in the ballroom. Molly and the Doctor checked the whole room corner to corner. No one seemed to have seen them, and no one seemed to have seen Stoff either.

     "You know," the Doctor said as they watched the crowd by the edges of the room, "something about this doesn't seem right."

     "What about it?"

     "That letter. It seemed a little too obvious. Like whoever wrote it wanted me to make the connection to Stoff. I mean, canker is a pretty well-known tree word, and there aren't many trees in court other than Stoff."

     Molly frowned. He was right, it did seem a bit obvious. Stoff didn't seem stupid enough to make a slip like that. “You're right, that is odd.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, picking up the call and pulling it up to her ear. “Hello?”

     “ _Molly, listen to me._ ” Greg's voice was low and urgent. “ _Where are you?_ ”

     Puzzled, Molly replied, “We're in the ballroom. We went looking for you.” The Doctor glanced at her curiously.

     There was a pause on the other end, then Greg's voice sounded again, lighter in tone. “ _Good. Listen, you can't go back to the king. He's the one behind all this. He's trying to frame Stoff for the attack so he can gain more power than being a figurehead._ ”

     Molly listened in astonishment. After a bit of thought, though, it kind of made sense. “The Doctor did think it seemed too obvious.” Her eyes widened as she realized something. “Hold on, Phantom of the Opera!”

     “ _Huh?_ ” Greg asked. “ _Here, let me put you on speaker._ ”

     There was a click, then she could hear Donna's voice, slightly distantly. “What was that about Phantom of the Opera?” Molly clicked speaker on at her end as well.

     “Phantom of the Opera was on the king's bookshelf. That's where he got the idea from!” She was met with silence on the other end. Her expression became disgruntled. “You've never seen Phantom of the Opera, have you?”

     “ _Not so much,_ ” Greg admitted. She looked over at the Doctor, who also shook his head.

     Molly shook her head, sighing. “940 some years between the two of you, and you've never seen Phantom of the Opera. That's just sad. You all need a proper musical education.”

     “Yeah, more to the point,” the Doctor said.

     “Right, sorry.” Molly apologized. “In Phantom of the Opera, there's a scene where a chandelier falls and causes a distraction. That's where the king got the idea to hijack the chandelier.”

     “ _Stirring commentary,_ ” came Stoff's sarcastic voice from the phone. “ _But I think we should focus on proving the king's guilt rather than musical culture._ ”

     “Sorry.”

     The Doctor frowned, looking thoughtful. “There has to be something tying the king to the attack.”

     “ _Nothing,_ ” Stoff said in a frustrated tone. “ _Everything he used to control the chandelier was found in my room. No one will believe me if I accuse him. If you try, he'll get rid of you, like he tried to get rid of your friends._ ”

     Everyone fell silent. There was a long pause as everyone tried to think of how to work their way out of this one. Suddenly, Molly grinned. “I have an idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like I might be getting back into my rhythm here. Let's see if I can get the next chapter out just as quickly.
> 
> Anyway, yeah, not really a big shocker. Most of you saw this coming, and I didn't really work that hard to hide it, because I knew it would just make it more obvious. Yes, Stoff is actually a good guy, yes, the king is actually behind all this. We've addressed it, it's revealed, now let's move on.
> 
> But none of you seemed to connect "The Phantom of the Opera" being on the king's shelf and the chandelier nearly killing the king. I guess it was less obvious than I thought. Ah well. I hope you like it, though. I tried to be clever. ^^
> 
> There should only be one more chapter in this one, then we can move on to the next episode.


	44. The King's Folly: Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly's plan is put into action.

     King Henry was not pleased. His attempt to silence the Doctor's human companions had failed, and worse still, Stoff had been the one to save them. They surely knew they truth now. They couldn't prove it, of course. Henry had been too careful for that. But he had heard enough miraculous Doctor tales to know better than to underestimate the Time Lord. This would have to be handled very carefully.

     The communicator lying on his night stand buzzed lightly. He picked up the call, holding the communicator to his ear. "Hello?"

     Henry listened, expression growing hard. "What? They were asking what?!" A pause. "No, that will be all. Thank you, Jeff." He clicked the communicator off, ignoring the confused look from his daughters. Surveillance cameras had caught the Doctor and his female companion wandering the library, asking if anyone knew where Stoff was. This had to be dealt with immediately, before the very powerful, very threatening Time Lord figured out the truth about him.

     He stood, squaring his shoulders. "Girls, excuse me for a moment. I have a matter to attend to."

**SCENEBREAK**

     Stoff called them a few minutes later. " _King Henry took the bait. He's leaving the room. Molly, go now._ "

     “Got it,” Molly replied. She straightened, squaring her shoulders in what the Doctor was increasingly recognizing as her starting-my-mission stance. “Good luck, Doctor,” she said with a smile. 

     The Doctor returned the smile, feeling a rush of relief. It was the first TARDIS adventure they had been on since the Year where he felt like they really had their old friendship back. It felt easy again. “You too.”

     She turned and walked away, pushing through the doors of the library. They swung quietly shut behind her, leaving the Doctor alone in the library. The Time Lord glanced around, grinning when he noticed a large armchair. He sat in it, legs crossed, arms draped over the armrests, fingers drumming against the leather. It was almost a bond-villain sort of pose, lounging in a chair like that, but he decided to indulge. What was the point in being the last of the great Time Lords if he didn't get to be over-dramatic every now and then?

     It didn't take long for King Henry to arrive. He pushed through the doors, looking around with confusion until his gaze fell on the Doctor in the armchair. The king was trying to keep his composure, but the Time Lord could see his distress in his tense shoulders and stiff expression. “Oh, Doctor,” he said smoothly, trying to pass off his confusion. “I didn't think I'd find you alone here.”

     “I expect so,” the Doctor replied. Jeff had told the king that they were asking various people in the library where Stoff was. They figured he would come down himself to stop them from tracking down Stoff and learning the truth from her, making it the perfect place for a one-on-one confrontation. He bounced to his feet, grinning disarmingly at the king. “Ah well, a happy accident, now we can have a little chat.”

     King Henry looked a bit perplexed by the Doctor's behavior, but he didn't comment on it. “I hear you were looking for Stoff? I'm not sure where she's gotten to, but I'd be happy to answer any questions you may have.”

     “I wasn't looking for Stoff,” the Time Lord corrected with a somewhat sharp grin. “I was looking for you. Figured you'd take the invitation.”

     He saw the exact moment the king figured out that it was a trap. Henry glanced around sharply, making sure they really were alone, before turning to face the Doctor stiffly. “If you wanted to talk to me,” he said coolly, “you could have found me in my chambers.”

     The Doctor replied, “I wanted to meet on my terms.”

     King Henry lifted his chin, losing the sort of bumbling air he'd had before. Now he seemed capable – and dangerous. “Very well Doctor. You have your terms. What is it you want?”

     “Answers.”

     “Then pose your questions and I'll see what I can do,” King Henry said calmly.

     The Doctor grinned. He began moving, circling partway around the king, taking his time. “See, here's something I can't understand.” When he reached one of the tables, he stopped, leaning his back against it and laying his hands on the table behind him. “If you were the intended victim of the chandelier, why didn't it kill you?”

     King Henry raised an eyebrow. “You want me to apologize for surviving?”

     “No, no, of course not,” he replied breezily. “But it's strange though, isn't it? Y'see, I'm rather brilliant. I saw how fast that thing was going. For you to have moved in time to avoid it completely, you had to have started moving out of the way before it started moving toward you. It took me a while to put it together.”

     “A king must be prepared for anything,” the king explained smoothly. “I have good reflexes.”

     “Or,” the Doctor countered, “maybe it's just easier to see an assassination attempt coming when you're the one who set it up. Same with the poisoned wine.”

     “And why would I possibly do that?”

     “To frame Prime Minister Stoff. She's your scapegoat, isn't she?”

     King Henry faced him calmly. “Again, why?”

     “There's the big question,” the Doctor said. He pushed off the table, taking a few steps towards the king with his hands clasped behind his back. “Why, Henry? Why all the lies, the deception? What's the point of it all?”

     The king gave him a condescending glance. “We're done here,” he said. He began to turn and walk toward the door. When he tried to open it, however, it wouldn't open. Molly had blocked the door from the outside after the king had walked inside. He whirled around to face the Time Lord, properly angry now. “What is the meaning of this? Do you really think you'll get away with kidnapping a king?”

     “We're not kidnapping you. I just wanted a chance to talk without you brushing me off.” King Henry continued to glare at him with all the righteous anger of a king. The Doctor wasn't remotely fazed. “Don't worry, I'm not going to try to kill you as well as trapping you, like you tried to do with my friends.” His voice turned hard at the end, eyes briefly flashing with anger. The warning was clear; this was the Doctor showing mercy. The king glanced briefly between the door and the Time Lord, then nodded once, turning away from the door and facing him fully.

     The Doctor's expression became cheerful again with disarming ease. “There we are, that's settled then. I'll ask my question again; what's the point of this little charade?”

     King Henry was silent for a few moments, but finally seemed to decide that he had nothing to lose by being frank. “Stoff is the first Prime Minister in a very new and malleable government,” he explained bluntly. “If she's discredited, and I am seen as the better ruler, Parliament is more likely to entrust more power to me than to trust in a new Prime Minister.”

     The Time Lord expression became skeptical. “What, so you think Parliament is just going to hand over the country to you just because one government official screwed up?”

     “They may not have a choice,” the king said. “I may just look like a figurehead, but I've been working to subtly push the tides in my favor. There are strong supporters of a totally monarchy out there. Young up-and-comers who liked the nobility I offered them, traditionalists, all those I've recruited or had recruited. If the country's first ever Prime Minister turns out to be a traitor and a murderer, there will be calls to give the power to me. Everyone will see that our current government just doesn't work. I'll take Stoff's power, and with time, the Parliament's power too. I have my supporters, and I've taken hers away. I just have to pin this assassination attempt on her, then no one will ever believe her again. I will be a true king, and my daughters will enjoy the power and wealth of a real monarchy. They will be true queens, and their children will rule this country for generations to come.”

     The Doctor listened with an unreadable expression, taking in the king's plan. When he finished, the Time Lord let out a low whistle. “Well, I'll give you this much. It's ambitious.”

     The king's eyes narrowed. “And now that you've been stubborn enough to find out the truth, you'll have to die.” He said it rather matter-of-factly. “I'll find a way to pin that on Stoff as well.”

     The Time Lord's expression didn't change, but there was a new glint in his eyes that made the king shudder to look at. “Very ambitious then,” he commented lightly. “But you know, I think you'll find that a little difficult. There's rather a few of us, and I don't think you can take us all on your own. Your little trick with the dungeons already failed.”

     “True,” the king admitted. “But this time I'll make sure Stoff isn't there to save you. The dungeons will kill you this time, and I will make sure Stoff is to blame.” He pulled out his communicator, holding it to his hear and ordering calmly, “Security, arrest the Doctor and his companions.”

     Nothing happened. The king's brow furrowed. “Security, pick up!” A few moments later, he slammed the communicator shut, glaring at the Doctor. “What did you do, cut off my signal as well as lock me in a room?”

     The Doctor's unreadable expression was gone, replaced by a cheerful grin. “Nope! No need.” The king's communicator buzzed again, causing the king to look down irritably at it. “You might want to answer that,” the Time Lord informed him.

     Looking thoroughly annoyed at this point, the king picked up the call. “Hello?”

**SCENEBREAK**

     “Hello, your majesty,” Stoff replied cheerfully. She had switched the communicator on so the whole room could hear. Lestrade listened with a growing grin, knowing that their work over the last few minutes was about to pay off. “I think you'll find that security isn't really interested in following your orders at the moment.”

     There was a pause, presumably as the king tried to figure out how Stoff could know he had tried to call security. “ _And why would that be, Prime Minister?_ ” he asked stiffly.

     “Because they heard everything you said,” Stoff told him.

     “Jeff sent out the footage the security cameras were picking up everywhere in the palace,” Lestrade informed the king. They could see him on the screen now, in the security room where he, Donna, Stoff, and Jeff were still working. The king looked around anxiously, finally seeming to locate one of the security cameras. “Anywhere at all that has a screen, or speakers. The ballroom, the kitchen, the servant's quarters...”

     “ _And the conference rooms,_ ” the Face of Boe added, patching into the conversation with the phone they had left him, which was open in front of him on the table. He was on the screen as well, in a room with multiple, very familiar holograms, and Donna, who had accompanied him. “ _Parliament is here, your majesty. They've been hearing every word you've said. How you manipulated them and lied to them. They're very interested in what you have to say for yourself._ ”

     The king seemed very anxious at this point. He clasped his hands in front of him, shuffling awkwardly. “ _My colleagues,_ ” he began carefully. “ _You all saw how this insane Time Lord locked me in this room. I feared for my life, so I told him what he wanted to hear. I did what I had to to make him let me go._ ”

     “ _He has a point_ ” one of the parliament members pointed out sternly. “ _His confession is pretty damning, but it's not enough. All the evidence points to Stoff._ ”

     “ _Not all of it,_ ” a new voice added. Jeff pulled up a new part of the screen, patching it through to the conference room as well so they could see the lone woman on the screen. Molly grinned at the camera, holding up a copy of “Phantom of the Opera” so it was completely in view. “ _I found this on the king's shelf while the Doctor was keeping him busy._ ” The king stiffened on his own screen, gaze darting around nervously. “ _I figured if this is where he got his ideas, he might have used it to hide any evidence against him. And I was right._ ” She flipped it open, turning to a section where some extra pages were held inside. She unfolded one of the papers hidden between the pages. It detailed plans for the floating chandelier, notes on how to program it the way the king needed to for the attack. “ _I think this will be quite enough evidence to convince you._ ”

     There were murmurs among the parliament. “ _That will do nicely,_ ” a tall, thin creature with four arms said. She said into Donna's phone, “ _Stoff, I'm sorry we doubted you._ ”

     Stoff smiled, looking more relaxed than Lestrade had seen her before. “It's quite alright. It's behind us.” On screen, the king got to his knees, bowing his head. He knew that he was beaten.

**SCENEBREAK**

     “What will you do now?” the Doctor asked Prime Minister Stoff. They were gathered in front of the TARDIS, the Doctor and his companions saying their goodbyes.

     “I've got a country to run, and the king's mess to clean up,” Stoff replied. “We've got some damage control to do. Especially with the princesses.”

     The Doctor frowned. “Poor kids,” he said quietly. Their father was being arrested, and they probably had no idea why. “What will you tell them?”

     “The truth,” she replied. “That their father loves them, but he tried to do something very wrong. It'll be hard for them at first, but they'll be fine. That Elizabeth has a good head on her shoulders. She'll make a good queen, when the time comes.” She smiled, widely and genuinely. “Thank you, Doctor. You gave me hope again.”

     He grinned, shaking the hand she offered. “Glad I could help.”

     Lestrade and Donna approached her next. “Thanks for saving us back there,” Donna said.

     Stoff nodded. “Of course. Thank you for helping me. You listened when no one else would.”

     The Doctor turned his attention away from that conversation. He and Molly turned to the Face of Boe, who was a few feet away from the TARDIS. The Time Lord had known this goodbye was coming, but that didn't make it any easier. “Well, I guess that's it then,” he said with a false grin.

     The Face of Boe blinked his eyes slowly, voice rumbling, “ _It was good to have one last run. It was more than I thought I would ever have again. Thank you, Doctor._ ”

     Molly sighed. “I wish I had known who you were when I saw you last time,” she said quietly. The Doctor remembered that last meeting, when the Face of Boe was lying, defeated and dying, in the shattered remains of his tank. The warning he had passed on. _”You are not alone._

     “ _It's quite alright, Molly Hooper,_ ” the face assured her. “ _I still have that last meeting to look forward to. I will see you again, Doctor and Molly, but you will not see me. Not as I am now._ ” The Doctor had known it, but it still hurt to hear. It felt like another failure, that he had no chance to save Jack.

     The Face of Boe seemed to guess what he was thinking, even though neither the Doctor nor Molly had told him what his final fate would be. “ _Do not grieve for me, Doctor. I have lived a very, very long life. Longer than even you know. I have seen and experienced more than any man can claim to. It has been a good life, but I am tired now. It is time for me to rest._ ”

     The Doctor felt a lump form in his throat. “Not yet,” he corrected. “You've got a bit more running to do first.” 

     The face smiled. “ _Then I will go and make my last rounds before I see you again._ ” He turned to Molly, who still seemed down. “ _I never thought I would see you again, Molly Hooper. I can say I am quite glad I got the chance again. You have come far from the woman you once were. I am glad to see you are healing from the Year That Never Was, and I am honored to run with The Woman Who Walked The Earth. The woman who counted, even when she didn't believe in herself. Just remember that your friends are there for you. We will meet again._ ”

     Molly smiled sadly. “Thank you, Jack.” She straightened, squaring her shoulders before raising her hand in the salute Jack had always given them. The Face of Boe watched with warmth, giving a slight nod in response.

     As they turned to walk away, the Face of Boe called after them, “ _Oh, and Doctor?_ ” They looked back at the face, who had an amused glint in his eyes. “ _Molly's waiting is done. But there is another waiting, in Time and Space. Her wait, and your wait, will end soon._ ”

     The Doctor froze. His mind went back to the Planet of the Ood, when Ood Sigma had given him the last warning. _“Your friends are waiting for you, away in Time and Space. One has been waiting longer than the others. She is waiting still, DoctorFriend... Your wait will end soon, I think, and hers._ ”

     “What does that mean?” he asked cautiously. Why did Jack and Ood Sigma have the same warning for him?

     Jack Harkness just grinned at him with that amused glint in his eyes. There was a sort of shimmer around him, then he vanished as he teleported out of the ballroom. The Doctor didn't need to be told to know that it was the last time he would ever see the Face of Boe.

     And yet, the warning still echoed in his mind. He didn't seem to be the only one dwelling on it. “Doctor, what did he mean?” Molly questioned, brow furrowed as he glanced at him.

     “I'm not sure,” the Doctor admitted. “But I guess we'll find out.” He looked down at her with a grin, trying to pass off the ominous mood. She grinned back, and he knew that whatever was coming for them, she would face it head-on with him. It was good to have Molly Hooper back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for a fairly obvious ending to a fairly obvious episode. I hope it was still enjoyable for all of you. I'm sorry I didn't include more of The Face of Boe. I meant to, but I got caught up in Donna and Lestrade's friendship developing, and talking about the Doctor and Molly's friendship returning, and all that fun stuff.
> 
> And yes, the Phantom of the Opera bit wasn't just a joke I stuck in, it actually had a purpose. And oddly enough, I've found a way to tie it into my next episode as well.
> 
> Anyway, onto a short interlude, then our next episode. It's another original, and then after that one, we get a canon episode. Have fun guessing which one.


	45. Interlude Five: Education of the Arts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly fulfills a promise, and Team TARDIS heads to America.

A few days later, Molly gathered the rest of the TARDIS travelers in the console room. She'd been shut up in her room ever since New London, only coming out to eat and to ask for American currency. It was strange, but somehow this didn't feel like something to worry about. It wasn't her hiding from the Doctor again; she was planning something.

Donna leaned against the railing beside Lestrade, waiting for Molly to explain herself. She, Lestrade, and the Doctor had been in one of the various lounges playing Jenga. It was a little childish, but it had been fun, especially when she and Lestrade ganged up on the Doctor. The Doctor was one of the best friends she'd ever had, but it was fun to watch him pout after winning. And Lestrade turned out to be a pretty fun guy. Molly was lucky.

Molly stood in front of the three of them, grinning widely. "Donna and Greg have gotten to pick the last few trips, so now it's my turn," she explained. "I've been spending the last few days picking out the perfect performances to watch."

Donna and Lestrade exchanged a mystified glance. "Performances?" Lestrade repeated.

In answer, Molly pulled a stack of tickets out of her pocket, holding them up for the others to see. "I did tell you I'd give you a musical education," she reminded them. "Tickets to musicals, the best performance of all of their runs."

"Which musicals?" the Doctor asked.

Molly grinned. "All of them. Phantom of the Opera, Wicked, Les Miserables, Into the Woods, RENT, Chicago, the works. We don't have to see them all at once, since we have the TARDIS, but I want to see at least one today."

Donna wasn't really one for musicals. She was a fan of soap operas and reality TV. Musicals had never really captured her interest. Lestrade probably hadn't either, since he'd said he hadn't seen Phantom of the Opera, and had a fairly busy job and small wage. The Doctor was probably the most musically educated of them. But it was so good to see Molly this excited about something, Donna couldn't even consider saying no. Besides, it could be fun to try something new. That's what the TARDIS was all about, after all.

She gave Molly an encouraging smile. "Great! Where do we start?"

Molly looked at the three of them thoughtfully. "You guys pick."

The three of them exchanged glances, before the Doctor turned back to her with a grin. "Well, since it's related to what we just went through, let's go see Phantom of the Opera."

The companion grinned back. "Let's go then. The TARDIS is going to Broadway."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little interlude I thought of earlier that is both cute and ties the last episode into the new one.
> 
> Before anyone asks, no, the new episode will not involve their adventures in Broadway. It'll come after they see some musicals. Sorry to be misleading there. But something that happens there will tie into the upcoming episode.
> 
> And yes, I made Molly a musical geek. It seemed to fit.


	46. Of Birds and Toads: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Donna plan a surprise trip - which, inevitably, goes wrong.

     It was two months after Lestrade's first trip on the TARDIS. Since then, they had gone to ancient Egypt, met a fortune-teller in the future who predicted that the Doctor and Donna would have many ginger babies (that had gotten a particularly big laugh out of Molly and Lestrade, while leaving Donna and the Doctor mortified), and visited a couple of alien planets, including a particularly nasty one where the inhabitants tried to sacrifice Lestrade to their god by tossing him off a cliff.

     Between all those adventures, they'd managed to see several of the plays Molly had bought tickets for. Donna had enjoyed them more than she had expected to, although some were a bit tedious for her. She had been a particular fan of Wicked, especially with the original cast, although the version they seen in the future where the actress who played Elphaba was actually green hadn't been bad either. The last thing they had seen was what Molly had referred to as the “dream cast” for Les Miserables, with Colm Wilkinson and Philip Quast.

     After the play, Molly had talked about how Les Miserables was one of her favorite books, and the differences between the book and musical, and the movie adaptations. Donna had tuned her out after a bit, the details getting a little too complicated for her taste, but the topic had given her an idea. She consulted with the Doctor later, and he agreed to her plan.

     Two days later, the Doctor gathered them all in the console room. He was leaning back against the console, arms crossed smugly in front of his chest and giving off waves of excitement. Donna shook her head with exasperation. Spaceman was terrible at covering up surprises.

     “Where are we off to today?” Molly asked, glancing uncertainly between Donna and the Doctor. Clearly she could tell something was up, but she didn't seem to know what. Donna grinned. Good.

     The Doctor just shook his head. “We're having a surprise trip today,” he explained. Molly and Lestrade both shared a mystified glance. They hadn't filled the detective inspector in on the plan, so he was as confused as Molly was.

     The Time Lord whirled around to face the console, turning some cranks and fiddling with dials to send the TARDIS into flight. The time machine shuddered into life, hurtling through Time and Space to where the Doctor and Donna had planned. It only took a minute or so for the ship to jerk to a halt.

     The minute the ship touched down, the Doctor bounded away from the console, turning on the balls of his feet as he reached the door. He swung it open, giving a little mock bow. “Companions first,” he said. Molly looked suspicious, and Donna just rolled her eyes. _Smooth, spaceman._

     Molly made her way down the ramp, hand draping over the railing. She gave the Doctor one, last curious glance before walking past him out the door. Lestrade went down next, and Donna followed, feeling her own little flicker of curiosity. She knew the rough idea of where and when they were, but she didn't know the specifics. The Doctor followed her out, closing the door behind them.

     When Donna stepped out of the TARDIS, she had to blink a few times in surprise. They were on a dock at night, overlooking a starlit beach. Behind them was a small town. It was definitely Earth, and the time period looked about right, but something was off.

     “Hold up,” she said, turning to the Doctor. “I thought this guy lived in Paris. Last time I checked, this isn't what Paris looks like.”

     The Doctor awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck while Molly looked between him and Donna with confusion. “'This guy?'” she repeated. “So you two brought us here to meet someone?” She turned to Lestrade, asking, “Are you in on this too?”

     The detective inspector held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, insisting, “I don't know what these two are up to, I swear.”

     The Time Lord threw Donna an exasperated glance. “Way to be subtle, Donna,” he said pointedly. “But to answer your question, he _used_ to live in Paris, but long story short, he got exiled, and now he lives here. The Bailiwick of Guernsey.” He gestured to the town behind them to demonstrate his point. "It's an island in the English Channel, property of the British Crown. It's the year 1864, and currently Guernsey is the home of a very special guest."

     Molly's eyebrows raised as she tried to look unamused by the Doctor, but her smile ruined the effect. "Are we ever going to meet this mysterious someone, or are you just going to keep talking?"

     The Doctor glared at her with mock indignation, also smiling. "I take you all the way through time and space, and this is the thanks I get?" After a few moments, he grinned, then slung one arm over Molly's shoulders and the other over Donna's. "We'll meet him soon. For now, let's just enjoy ourselves, eh?" They started down a street, walking away from the docks and the TARDIS.

     Molly grinned back. She put her arm around Lestrade's shoulders, pulling him into the group, so they were all walking together. Donna was suddenly struck with a memory of doing the same on her very first TARDIS trip. She marveled at how much things had changed since them. Back then, everything was new to her. The amazing planets, the TARDIS, traveling through time and space, even her friends. She'd known the Doctor better than the others, but still not nearly as well as she did now. Molly and Sherlock had pretty much been complete strangers to her. Molly had been the girl that saved her life but seemed unsure of her, and Sherlock had been the annoying prat she was sure she'd always hate.

     Over half a year over, things were so very different. The Doctor was one of her best friends, and she'd learned so much more about his past and the pain he carried with him. While she still didn't know much about Molly's secrets, the former pathologist was still a good friend. Donna had seen Molly at some of her lowest moments, and felt almost protective of her. She knew the Doctor felt the same, although perhaps for slightly different reasons. Perhaps most shocking of all was her friendship with Sherlock. If someone had told her that very first day that she would one day be good friends with Sherlock Holmes, she would have chewed them out for telling her nonsense. He was gone now, but Lestrade was there, and after two months he was starting to become part of their little family on the TARDIS.

     Once, her life had been nothing but a dull job, endless gossip , and a mother who basically thought she was worthless. No wacky, dangerous adventures or great friends like hers anywhere in sight. Now, she mused as they walked down the street, over half a year later, she couldn't imagine her life without any of those things.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Neither Lestrade or Molly could get any information about their mystery trip out of Donna or the Doctor. Whoever they were coming to meet, it would remain a mystery until they actually met him.

     That was taking a while, however. The Doctor had started out confident, but after a good twenty minutes, it became clear he didn't know what he was doing.

     "You have absolutely no idea where this guy is, do you?" Donna asked bluntly. They were leaning against a wall by a street corner, while the Doctor was reading the street signs.

     The Time Lord turned to face his companions, running a hand through his wild hair. "Well, I mean, sort of... no, none at all."

     Donna shook her head while Lestrade let out a snort of amusement. He had met the Doctor over a year ago, but that had only been for a few brief hours before they'd had to abandon him on the Valiant. Over the course of the Year, Molly had told him plenty of stories about the wacky, genius Time Lord. But now that he was actually traveling on the TARDIS, he was starting to get his own idea of what the Doctor was like. His main impression was that, for the last great Time Lord, the man could be surprisingly scatterbrained sometimes.

     Donna sighed, "You're hopeless."

     "Hey, at least we're in the right general area," Molly defended him, tone light with amusement. "Better than the time that he tried to take me to a relaxing alien spa to cheer me up after Sherlock was being an ass and we ended up meeting the Romanov family in Communist Russia five days before they were executed."

     Donna's eyes widened in surprise. "He did not." She turned to glare accusingly at the Doctor, who looked surprised and a bit concerned at the sudden change in conversation. "You cheered her up by introducing her to people that were gonna die? You're clueless, Spaceman!"

     "That was an accident!" the Doctor defended himself hastily.

     "It turned out alright in the end," Molly assured Donna. "I ended up saving the Romanovs by swapping them with alien shapeshifters. Did wonders cheering me up."

     Lestrade remembered Molly telling him and Sherlock about that particular adventure of hers around a campfire one night. It had taken place right after Sherlock had embarrassed her in front of everyone at that Christmas party. Sherlock had looked properly ashamed when she told that story, talking about just how much his words had effected her. It was weird to think of how far she had come since then, how far all of them had come.

     After a few moments, the Doctor sighed, shaking his head. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he announced, “Alright, we need to ask for directions. Let's try the cafe over there.” He gestured to a small cafe a few yards away Maybe someone will know where this guy lives.”

     As they started walking towards the cafe, Donna joked, “That's rare, a bloke who doesn't mind asking for directions.”

     “Must be an alien thing,” the Doctor replied with a grin.

     When they reached the cafe, there were only a few people inside. There was an older man with a thick, brown beard behind the counter, a few hung-over young men slumped over a table, and a tall man in a hooded black cloak. Well, Lestrade couldn't really tell whether it was a man or not. The face was obscured in shadow, and he was pretty sure there was some kind of veil over the person's face. It was a pretty strange get-up. He made sure to keep an eye on the person as he, Molly, and Donna found a table to sit at. The Doctor went to the man behind the counter, conversing quietly with him, presumably asking where their mystery guest was.

     Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Molly tensed as well, her gaze flitting discreetly to the person in the black cloak. The two former members of the Hooper Army exchanged a quick glance. They both knew how to spot a potential enemy without giving themselves away.

     Perhaps that's why they didn't notice it.

     Donna did, though. She wasn't distracted by the man in the cloak, so she was able to look out the window and see it before either of the others. “Hey guys?” she said warily. “You might want to see this.”

     Lestrade reluctantly looked away from the man in the black cloak; only to immediately nudge Molly to get her attention. She stiffened in surprise as she looked out the window as well.

     Outside, several strange creatures with large visored helmets were marching through the little town, organized in a tight formation. One of them had its helmet off. It had a large, rhino-like head. Definitely an alien, and definitely not supposed to be on the island of Guernsey in 1864.

     Molly gasped. “Judoon! But what are they doing here?”

     “What the hell are Judoon?” Donna asked.

     “They're aliens, sort of police-for-hire,” Molly explained quickly, her gaze still fixed on the aliens in question as they marched through the streets. “I ran into them the first day I met the Doctor. But that was on the moon in the 21st Century. What're they doing on an Earth island in 1864?”

     “Somehow, I don't think asking's the best idea,” Lestrade noted grimly. The creatures were all carrying high-tech guns, and they didn't exactly look like the type to be reasoned with.

     Molly seemed to think differently. “I don't know. Judoon are thick, but they're not unreasonable,” she argued. “Last time we met them, all they wanted was to capture the criminal they were sent after. They didn't hurt anyone else – unless they were attacked,” she concluded grimly. Lestrade felt a shiver of fear at the implied meaning. What would happen if someone in Guernsey tried attacking the Judoon?

     “Doctor!” Donna called sharply. The Time Lord looked up, approaching the table when she beckoned him over. His expression turned to one of surprise when he noticed the Judoon.

     “Do you think we should talk to them?” Molly asked. “Maybe this time we'll actually be able to help them without them trying to kill you.”

     “Why should we help them?” Donna asked. “Aren't we usually trying to stop alien invaders?”

     “They're not invaders,” Molly reminded her. “They're just police. And if we help them, maybe we'll be able to keep this discreet enough so people won't notice that there's aliens here at all.”

     Before the Doctor could respond, there was a sharp rap at the door of the cafe. “Open up!” a gruff, inhuman voice called out. “Or this residence will be destroyed!”

     The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, so much for that,” he commented. “But maybe we should talk to them. We don't want them frightening too many people.” The young men were still slumped over, too drunk to notice anything, but the bartender was staring out the window, eyes wide with shock and mouth opening and closing as he tried to form a coherent sentence.

     The Time Lord started to move toward the door, but before he could reach it, there was a sound like the sharp flapping of feathers, and the tall man in the cloak was standing in front of the Doctor and had a knife pointed at his chest. Lestrade blinked in shock. He wasn't sure how the man had moved that fast, but he was becoming increasingly less convinced it was a man.

     “You can't help the Judoon,” he said in a soft, strangely high voice.

     The Doctor glanced down at the knife, then up at the cloaked, veiled man. “Really?” he asked lightly. Lestrade was beginning to notice a pattern, where the Doctor acted most cheerful and genial when he was the most dangerous. “And why is that?”

     “Because they're looking for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry the end is so clumsy. I tried to write it well, I really did, but it just ended up... blah. I'll try to make the next chapter better.
> 
> And yes, sorry for the wait. This time, however, it was not due to me being busy with school or otherwise distracted from writing this fic. This time, the wait was related to the fanfic. I spent it trying to research for this episode. Thanks to TWSythar of Fanfiction.net, for pointing me in the direction of some helpful sources, and thanks to AMarguerite of Fanfiction.net, for answering all my questions and providing me with some really helpful information.
> 
> Some of you will probably be able to guess who they have come to see. If not, then, you're in for a surprise I guess. If so, no loss, I hope you still enjoy the episode.
> 
> I'll try to post more soon, but finals are next week, so I can't make any promises.


	47. Of Birds and Toads: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor tries to figure out what the cloaked alien wants.

     Just once. Just _once_ he'd like to be able to plan a trip for his companion that went completely according to plan and didn't get interrupted by fixed points or aliens.

     The Doctor faced the cloaked alien (it had to be an alien at this point, who else would the Judoon be looking for?) calmly, his mind trying to work through how he could get out of this one.

     Out of the corner of his eye, he was able to observe his companions. Donna looked worried, and so did the other two, but they were also watching the exchange with narrowed eyes. He could see them trying to work out how to get the knife out of the alien's gloved hand before he could injure the Time Lord.

     The Doctor appreciated the concern, especially from Lestrade. He'd liked the detective inspector since he met him. Lestrade had been kind to his self-conscious companion when Sherlock was being an ass. Since then, Lestrade had proven himself over and over. Now that he was actually a companion, the Doctor was getting to know him as a friend, not just as someone to be respected. Game and movie nights on the TARDIS with Molly, Donna, and Lestrade had drawn the group closer together, even through the loss of Sherlock. The Doctor could count Lestrade as a friend now, not just an ally. He could tell Donna felt the same way, and he already knew what Molly felt for Lestrade. He was very glad they had taken Lestrade on board.

     “Alright, question for you then,” the Doctor said in a light tone. “Why exactly should I _not_ help the Judoon catch the alien that's threatening me with a knife. I'd say threatening my life, but that'd be a feat, killing me with a knife.” He was stalling, trying to draw this out long enough for the Judoon to break in and find the alien standing there.

     He expected the alien to make some kind of threat, say that the Doctor would be dead before he could alert the Judoon, something. Instead, the creature looked down at the knife in his hand, then drew it back into his cloak, out of view. Molly and Lestrade visibly relaxed now that the weapon was no longer being pointed at the Doctor. “I'm not trying to threaten you,” the alien said quietly. “I just needed your attention. The Judoon are after me, but I have my reasons for what I did. I'll explain myself later.” There was another sharp pounding on the door, along with Judoon yelling. The cloaked alien flinch at the sound, then told the Doctor urgently, “There isn't time. We have to hide.” 

     The Doctor's mind went off in whirlwind speed to try and figure out what to do. It would be so easy to let the Judoon just find this alien. However, now that the knife was away, the alien seemed reasonable enough. The Time Lord believed him when he said that he just wanted to explain himself. He knew that the Judoon wouldn't stop to listen to excuses. They had been given a criminal and a verdict, and they would carry it out no matter what. He had to keep this alien safe until he could learn what was going on.

     He turned quickly to face the bartender, who seemed to have finally come back to his senses after seeing the Judoon. “Is there somewhere we can hide?” he asked urgently.

     The bartender nodded. In a surprisingly strong tone, he told the travelers, “In the storeroom, behind that door. In there, there's a door that leads outside. Use it to sneak out. I'll stay out here and talk to them.”

     The Doctor felt a flicker of surprise. As his companions and the alien moved toward door the bartender had indicated, he told the bartender, “You could just leave with us.”

     The human shook his head. “If I do that, they'll search the place,” he told the Doctor firmly. “But if I'm here, I can tell them no one's here. Go.”

     The Doctor hesitated, but he knew the man was right. “Thanks,” he said quickly. He just managed to slip through the door indicated before the Judoon broke through the front door. His gaze scanned the storeroom for a few moments before he located the door indicated. As he and his companions snuck towards the door leading outside, they could hear the conversation forming in the cafe.

     After the Judoon broke in, the bartender yelled, “Hey, what's the idea? You can't just go breaking people's doors!”

     There was the sound of heavy footsteps shuffling, then one of the Judoon grunted. “We're looking for this criminal, guilty of treason of the highest order.” There was a rustling of a paper; probably a wanted poster they were showing the bartender.

     “I've never seen a thing like that before in my life,” the bartender said quite honestly. “The only ones in this place are those poor sods drooling on the table.”

     A low grunt. “Search the premises.”

     They pushed the door open as silently as they could, and one by one they slipped outside into the chilly night. Once they were outside, the Doctor turned to the cloaked alien. “There's Judoon patrolling the streets. Is there anywhere we can hide?”

     The alien nodded. “My house. I prepared it ages ago, in case something like this ever happened.”

     The Doctor narrowed his eyes. “Prepared how?” he asked warily. If this alien had stockpiled weapons or something, he definitely didn't want them reaching that house.

     The cloaked alien didn't answer. He led them down the street, glancing warily around the corner of the building before waving them onward. They made their way cautiously through the twists and turns of the little town, managing to avoid the Judoon until they reached a small house near the edge of town.

     They hurried inside, the cloaked alien closing the door behind them. It was dark inside the small house, but the cloaked alien strode confidently toward a wall that led into a kitchen. He tapped something on the wall a few times, and the floorboards near his feet began to pull back, revealing a staircase leading downward.

     The Doctor looked at it with a low whistle. “That's definitely not Earth technology.”

     “We can discuss it later,” the alien said curtly. He started down the stairs, followed warily by the Doctor's companions, and eventually by the Doctor himself. The stairs led down into a small room, with a single door. There was a couch and a few chairs, along with a display monitor on the wall by the stairs. The cloaked alien tapped a few buttons on it, and there was a _hiss_ as the floorboards above them sealed, leaving no trace of the room below.

     Once that was done, the cloaked alien visibly relaxed. “This room is undetectable, soundproof, and unopenable without the proper code. We'll be safe in here for now.” He slid down onto the couch, slumping wearily against the cushion. After a few moments, he seemed to remember he had company. He waved an arm vaguely towards the chairs in front of him, telling the travelers, “Go on, ask whatever you want.”

     Molly, Lestrade, and Donna all sat in the chairs indicated. The Doctor preferred to remain standing. When he was in the middle of trying ng to figure things out, in this particular incarnation, he tended to have a lot of energy. Mostly that went into pacing. He leaned against the back of Donna's chair, arms resting on the back of her chair. “Let's start with what species are you?”

     The cloaked alien nodded. “Alright.” With that, he reached up and pushed back the hood of his cloak and the veil, unclasping it and setting the whole cloak aside.

     Underneath was a very tall, very skinny, crane-like alien. It had the body and neck of a crane, with the knees bent backward like a bird, but with legs entirely covered in feathers. The feet had three large, thick toes with claws. The arms were long and thin, with long, wing-like feathers coming out of the bottom. The creature had three clawed fingers and and small thumb. The head had a crest of feathers pointing from the back of the head, but instead of a beak, there was a narrow, dog-like muzzle.  
     The nose was more like that of a horse, with nostrils that flared as the creature breathed. Long, thing feathers extended from the eyebrows, making the face seem very expressive. The eyes were a dark, warm brown. The creature wore a brown vest and black shirt under it, with a belt slung over one shoulder and waist. It also wore dark brown pants that cut off partway below the knee. And all over, it was covered in silver, gray, blue, and white feathers.

     The Doctor grinned at the sight. “You're an Avian!” he realized.

     “A what?” Donna asked.

     “An Avian. They're the dominant species on the planet Iree,” the Doctor explained. “They don't live that far from here, just a galaxy over.”

     The creature nodded with a tired smile. “My name is Awk,” he said. “I'm a refugee here.”

     “How long have you been on Earth?” Lestrade asked curiously. Now that the Avian was de-masked, his companions seemed a lot less suspicious.

     “Nine years,” Awk replied. “I managed to hijack a ship and escape my planet, and I've been here ever since.”

     “Wait, what do you mean escaped?” Molly asked, brow furrowed.

     The Avian started to answer, but before he could, there was the distant sound of a door opening, and heavy footsteps from above them. Everyone tensed noticeably. Awk had assured them that the bunker was soundproof, but no one seemed willing to test that.

     The Doctor could just barely hear the grunt of a Judoon ordering, “ _Search the human residence._ ” There was more shuffling above them as the Judoon explored the house.

     Under his breath, he asked Awk, “Did you leave anything alien up there?”

     Awk shook his head. “Nothing,” he promised. “Everything I had is either down or was used it to make this bunker. Even the ship I used to get here went into making this bunker.” The Doctor nodded, but it didn't stop him from feeling a twinge of anxiety as time dragged on, and the Judoon still didn't leave.

     Finally, after what seemed like ages, there was the low sound of a Judoon voice. “ _The house is empty._ ” The heavy footsteps receded, and the door shut behind them. Everyone relaxed. The Judoon were gone.

     Awk shook his head slightly, feathers fluffing out. “Great. Now the house will smell like Judoon for weeks.” His words were light, but his tone was still shaky with the fear of nearly being caught.

     The Doctor let out the breath he'd been holding. “We should have some time before they check this house again,” he told the others. “So Awk, you were telling us about yourself. What's an Avian doing on Earth?”

     The alien snorted. “You're one to talk! You're not human either.” The Doctor didn't change expression at this revelation. More often than not, people seemed to guess who he was. It really wasn't that surprising anymore. “I could smell it from a mile away. Your friends are human, but you're not. I've never smelled anything like you before.” Even now his nose was quivering, his nostrils flaring as he tried to place the Doctor's scent.

     The Doctor smirked. “I'm not surprised,” he said, but he didn't elaborate. “My friends and I are just passing through. We travel a lot. I'm the Doctor, and these are my friends Molly, Donna, and Greg.”

     Awk smiled for the first time since they'd met him. “I can believe that. You're definitely a strange group. It's not every day you meet an alien and his human companions.”

     “We hear that a lot,” Molly said with amusement.

     “So, what _are_ you doing on Earth?” Lestrade asked.

     Awk hesitated. “It's a bit of a long story.”

     “Like I said, we've got time,” the Doctor said firmly. He had protected Awk from the Judoon; now he wanted to know why.

     Before Awk could respond, there was a distant knock, and the sound of the front door opening. Everyone stiffened. “I thought you said they wouldn't come back!” Donna hissed accusingly.

     Awk frowned. “I don't think that's Judoon,” he said slowly.

     There was the dull sound of footsteps, then a sharp _hiss_ as the floorboards began to pull back again. The Doctor froze, and his companions tensed visibly. Had the Judoon figured out where they were?

     However, Awk's expression brightened, growing soft with relief. “There's only one other person who knows the code to get in here.” He stood, making his way up the stairs, calling over his shoulder, “He found me when I first crashed here. He helped me find a place here.” There was a pause, then he began to descend the stairs again, a new person at his side.

     Molly drew in a sharp breath. “Is that –?”

     The Doctor's eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Yeah. Yeah it is.” He was a bit younger than his portrait in the back of the book on Molly's shelf, his beard a bit shorter, but it was definitely him. The one they had come here to see.”

     Awk smiled. “Meet my friend, Victor Hugo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm sorry for how pathetically short this chapter is. I really wanted to end on the note with Victor Hugo walking in, and there wasn't much more I could add before that to make the chapter longer. I'll try to make up for it by making the next chapter longer.
> 
> So yeah, the mystery person they came to see was Victor Hugo, author of Les Miserables (and The Hunchback of Notre Dame, for anyone who didn't know). A couple of you guessed it. So yeah, Hugo knows Awk, and apparently he's known about aliens for some time.
> 
> Also, something I forgot to mention. During the wait for the last chapter, I went back and edited the entirety of "The Woman Who Counted." All typos, awkward wording, and saying Martha instead of Molly, have been corrected. The format has also been edited to better fit with the current chapters of "The Soldier Who Stayed," with **SCENEBREAK** bolded instead of just plain text, that sort of thing.


	48. Of Birds and Toads: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awk explains why the Judoon are after him, and Molly Hooper gets to meet Victor Hugo.

Molly knew she was gaping like an idiot, but she couldn't seem to arrange her expression into anything other than fangirl-ish shock and glee. One of her favorite authors of all time was standing in front of her, alive after hundreds of years of being dead. Maybe someone else would think the amazing planets and fantastic times she had seen would be more impressive. But this felt more special. Donna and the Doctor had planned this for her, because they knew how much she loved his work. Somehow, that really got to her.

Victor Hugo, author of Les Miserables, was regarding the time travelers with a suspicious glance. “Awk, who are these people?” He glanced pointedly at the Avian's true form. Clearly, he didn't trust the travelers with the knowledge of who Awk really was.

“Hugo, it's fine,” the Avian assured him. “They're friends. Their leader is an alien, like me.” Hugo still didn't look convinced. “They helped me hide from the Judoon.”

The Doctor stepped towards him, grinning widely. “Victor Hugo himself. It's an honor, really.”

The writer looked critically at him. “Do I know you, sir?”

“No,” Molly replied for him. “But we know you!” She finally seemed to have broken out of the shocked stupor, and had been reduced to fangirl glee. The companion got quickly to her feet, stepping towards the author. “Molly Hooper, Monsieur Hugo. It's an honor. Les Miserables is my absolute favorite book. I've always wanted to meet you."

Victor Hugo looked a bit surprised at her declaration. "Well, I can't say I hear that a lot. And you're all very oddly dressed, aren't you?"

"We're travelers, like he said," the Doctor explained hastily. “So, what about you, Monsieur Hugo? What are you doing here?”

Hugo glanced at Awk as he explained, “I came to make sure Awk was alright. Those rhinoceros creatures have been searching every house. They've been looking for you. They've gone to every door, the entire island knows about them by now. I'm afraid that even if those creatures don't find you, your secret won't be kept much longer my friend.”

Fear flashed in Awk's eyes, but after a moment he shook his head. "Let's worry about that if it becomes a problem. For now, focus on the Judoon."

"Is that what those creatures are called?" Hugo shook his head, his suspicion fading away, leaving him looking old and worried. "All they said is that they were trying to find a fugitive."

"Yeah, about that," the Doctor interrupted, "Why exactly are you a fugitive?"

Awk glanced at the Time Lord, then sighed, passing a clawed hand over his face. "It's a long story," he said quietly. He sank back down into the couch, Hugo sitting beside him, a hand on the Avian's shoulder in silent support. "It was so long ago. I didn't think it would come up again, after all this time." Molly sat down again as well, feeling a twinge of anticipation.

After a few moments, Awk began his tale. "My planet, Iree, isn't as large as yours. It's closer to the size of your moon. There are only two continents, and only four countries. I come from Kyteria, one of the larger countries on the Eastern continent. When I was a kid, we weren't that well off. Life wasn't always perfect, but it was better than what happened later.”

“There was another country, Dyrion. They were smaller than us, and they were being attacked from off-planet invaders. We had better technology, better weapons, a better army. Everyone agreed we had to help Dyrion. Practically everyone was for it. Our government made an agreement with Dyrion, and then marched into action. It didn't take long to chase off the invaders. They were powerful, but they couldn't match all of our numbers.”

“After that, the government decided we needed to stay in Dyrion and help it rebuild. The country had been pretty badly shaken. Their government was pretty much in shambles, half their army was dead, and the civilians looked to us for help. So we helped.” Awk sighed. “But then we never left.”

“Years after the war with the invaders, and we were still occupying Dyrion. People were starting to realize that the situation in Dyrion was getting worse, not better. They were even more dependent on us then they had been after the war ended. The rights of the civilians there were restricted. Their government was all but gone.”

“People started protesting, saying we weren't really helping Dyrion so we should pull out and let them stand on their own. The media in particular started to protest. At first, the government let them. But after a while, they started restricting what the media could broadcast. The government's power was pretty much solely in the hands of the army at this point, and they didn't want anyone speaking against them.”

“Once the media was silenced, things went pretty downhill from there. Kyteria decided it needed to run the entire planet. It took over the other two countries by force, then it strengthened restrictions on the people under it's power. People from the conquered countries, our “colonies,” were practically treated like a second class of Avian, and native Kyterians weren't treated much better, especially those who had spoken up before. Punishments for those who spoke against the government grew stricter and stricter. Eventually, they just started killing off anyone who disagreed with them.”

“About thirteen years ago, I was a young Avian living in the slums with a lot of anger. But I knew if I spoke up, I'd just get 'taken care of.' So I decided to try something else instead. I started gathering Avians who agreed with me. We met in secret. Talked about what was happening, what we could do to change it, if _anything_ could change it. Somehow, word started to spread to supporters. Our meetings grew larger in number. Smaller groups branched out from ours, but somehow, they all declared me their leader. Eventually, we made contact with Avians in the colonies. They had already been gathering for months, and they were glad to add us to their forces. I was now one of many leaders, and now, we had enough followers to do something really big.”

“That's when we decided that speaking up and trying to reform the government peacefully wasn't going to work. We were going to have to go full-out revolution."

"It didn't take long to organize ourselves. We were ready to strike in a few months. Since we couldn't match the Kyterian army in numbers, we focused our followers where they would do some good, destroying key military points, cutting off supplies, whatever we could to lessen their power."

Awk shook his head, grief flashing in his eyes. "For a while, it worked. We managed to hold our own. But two years into the fight some people got scared and turned informer. The army overwhelmed us. We didn't stand a chance. By the end, they had rounded up most of the leaders, and there were only a few rebels left alive. I took the ones I could save, stole a ship, and we fled the planet together."

This was news to Molly. Her brow furrowed as she asked, "Wait, then where are the others you escaped with?"

"We decided to split up," Awk explained. “Our chances of being found would decrease if we were scattered all over space. We stopped off on a planet with a lot of ports. Some of them snuck onto ships, some of them stole transport. I took the ship we'd taken from Iree and pointed it toward the most remote patch of sky I could find. The ship was basically falling apart by the time I reached Earth. I only had enough fuel to point myself away from land before I crashed into the ocean. I landed at night, luckily, so no one saw me. I managed to climb out of the ship before it sank underwater, and I swam to shore. I hid by the cliffs that night. I had no idea where I'd landed, or whether there was intelligent life to be found, whether they'd be friendly.”

“The next day, I decided to explore a little. I came out to the beaches, which is when I found the town. I figured there had to be some sort of intelligent species. But I didn't know if they would be willing to shelter me from the Avians. I figured I would try to watch them first before approaching them. But Hugo found me first.”

“I'd never seen anything like an Avian before,” Hugo cut in. “Once Awk explained himself, however, I realized that it wouldn't be safe for people to see what he was. He wanted to hide, but I convinced him to set himself up with a human life. I got the cloak, the gloves, and the veil for him, I set him up with a job and a bit of money, we found somewhere for him to live.”

“People were a bit weirded out by the outfit for a while, but eventually they got used to not being able to see my face,” Awk continued. “I just told them I didn't like to be seen because of something that had happened. I think they assumed I have some sort of scars or burns that I don't want people to see. There's still a few people who think I'm odd, but mostly I've been accepted into the community.”

The Avian gestured to the blue neck-tie he wore. “I wired a translator onto this while I was dropping the rest of the rebels off. It's why I was able to understand Hugo when we met. I've learned both English and French since then though. I work at a shipyard, I help carry crates. I'm slightly stronger than humans, so people come to me whenever they need help with something. I've been doing this for nine years. I've made my home on Earth. I don't want to lose it all now."

Everyone was silent after Awk's story was done. The Doctor was standing behind Molly's chair, leaning his forearms against it and listening intently. All the others were still seated. Molly was lost in her own thoughts, and the memories that Awk's story had brought back.

The Doctor was the first to break the silence. His expression was somber and thoughtful, his voice quiet as he asked, "The only thing I don't get is, why would the Judoon come for you now? I mean, it's been nine years since your revolution failed. If they were gonna come after you, it would've been then. Why now?"

Awk shook his head. "I have no idea," he admitted. "It doesn't make any sense to me either."

Lestrade's brow furrowed. "Something must have changed to make them come after you after all this time."

"Or maybe it just took those rhino things this long to find him," Donna suggested.

The Doctor shook his head. "Nah, the Judoon are thick, but they're better trackers than that. It wouldn't take them nine years to find one little Avian."

"Right, they were able to track that plasmavore to that hospital on Earth," Molly remembered. "They didn't know which person she was, but that's a pretty specific area to find."

The Time Lord frowned thoughtfully. "Tell you what," he said slowly, "I bet the Judoon would know." He straightened fully, giving a sudden grin. "I think I fancy a stroll outside."

Hugo looked at the Time Lord like he was nuts. "But those things will capture you! You're an alien as well, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am. But they don't know that, do they? They're looking for an Avian, not a human-like alien. They won't suspect a thing."

The writer started to stand. "Then we should go with you."

The Doctor shook his head. "They'll get suspicious if they see too many people walking around. Just sit around for a bit, I'll be right back. Don't get caught, and don't wander off." With that, he turned and trotted up the stairs, the floorboards sliding shut behind him with a _hiss_.

**SCENEBREAK**

The Doctor made sure the floorboards were shut securely behiind him before he exited the house. He glanced around anxiously as he shut the door behind him. Hopefully the Judoon hadn't seen him walking out of a house they thought was empty.

There weren't any aliens out on the street as far as he could see. Stars overhead were the only source of light. The lights in every house were off, and even the street lamps were doused. The Doctor recalled Hugo saying that the Judoon had visited every house. People were probably scared now and trying to hide. He wished he could help, but for now, he had to focus on finding the Judoon and getting some answers.

The Time Lord stuffed his hands into his pockets and began strolling casually down the street, keeping any eye out for any rhino heads. They had to be out here somewhere.

There were several things about this situation that sat wrong with him. First off, the timing. Awk's revolution was nine years ago. Why were the Judoon after him now all of a sudden? And why were they searching here on Earth? They didn't have any jurisdiction on a Level Five planet. That was why they had used the H2O scoop to transport the hospital to the moon; it was neutral territory. They had to know they were out of their jurisdiction, so what were they up to? This didn't feel like a normal criminal investigation to him. Something was up.

He searched every corner of town, but the Judoon didn't seem to be anywhere. That was alright, though. The Time Lord had a feeling he knew where they might be. The Judoon had great big ships. He had seen them when they'd landed on the moon. They must have used one to get here; that was probably where the Judoon were now. And he had a feeling he knew where they might be hiding it.

He made his way away from the town, towards some of the more cliffy areas. There had been some places large enough there to hide a spaceship from view from the town. Sure enough, as he came to the top of a ledge, down below was one of the sleek, black Judoon ships.

The Doctor grinned to himself. "Gotcha."

The word had barely left his mouth when he heard the cock of guns behind him. He turned to see that other than the ledge behind him, he was entirely surrounded by armed Judoon, all of them with weapons raised and pointed directly at his chest.

In a low, gruff tone, one of the Judoon asked, "What are you doing here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the shortness of this chapter, and the amount of talking versus actual action. I'm afraid there's going to be a lot of that this episode. There's a lot that needs to be said.
> 
> Also, there will probably be six chapters in this one, if I'm calculating correctly.
> 
> Also, I'm done with my first year of college! *throws confetti * So yeah, finals are done, classes are done, I'm moved out of my dorm and I'm officially back home. So hopefully, posting should be more regular now.


	49. Of Birds and Toads: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are talks that needed to happen, and the Doctor tries to find the Judoon.

     Donna sighed, leaning back against her chair. She felt useless sitting around doing nothing while the Doctor was out there. Not to mention bored. Christ, she used to be a temp before the Doctor met her. What had the TARDIS done to her to make her think that sitting was the worst thing that could happen to her during a dangerous alien invasion?

     Aloud, she remarked, "Y'know, I never thought I'd actually miss the running."

     Molly chuckled. "Yeah, me neither. But it starts to be the best part of being out here. The mad whirlwind of it all."

     "Is that the part you missed the most? During the war?"

     Donna and Molly looked up at Awk in surprise. The Avian was gazing curiously at Molly, something quiet and knowing in his eyes. Donna had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. What war?

     "What are you talking about?" Molly asked, a bit of a tremor suddenly in her tone. Lestrade looked worried too, his usually cheerful expression suddenly tightened into a frown.

     "Soldiers can always recognize another soldier," Awk said.

     Hugo nodded in agreement. "I never fought myself, but I've seen that look in the soldiers I knew in France. It's something about the eyes."

     Molly and Lestrade exchanged a quick glance, anxiety flickering in Molly's eyes, concern in Lestrade's. Donna wasn't sure what was going on here, but she had a feeling it was related to Molly's secret. The one that she'd refused to talk about with the Doctor, the one that had haunted her for so long. The one she still hadn't told Donna.

     The companion looked down. For a very brief moment, she seemed as fearful and broken as she had that day she had sobbed into Donna's shoulder in London. "It's a long story," she said quietly.

     "You don't have to explain," Donna assured Molly quickly. Whatever had happened to Molly, it was her business. She shouldn't feel obligated to talk about it before she was ready.

     Awk dipped his head. "I'm sorry, I was being insensitive."

     Molly was silent for a moment. Then, she lifted her head. Her chin was raised slightly, her shoulders squared, a steely, determined look in her eyes. "No," she said firmly. "I'll tell you." She gave Donna a quick glance and a small smile. "If I'm going to move past it, I need you to know too, Donna. You're part of my family now too."

     Donna blinked in surprise. She thought of the Doctor and Molly as her friends, but she hadn't considered that Molly would see her as family. Donna had come into the middle of an established dynamic with the Doctor, Molly, and Sherlock, and even Lestrade already seemed to have a place here. There were times she still didn't feel like she was as wanted or needed here as the others. But clearly Molly thought differently, if she was choosing to trust her with this truth. Donna couldn't help but feel touched.

     Molly took a deep breath, then began; "It started about two and a half years ago. It was the first day we had Sherlock on board. We just meant to stop off on Cardiff to fuel up the TARDIS, but things got a bit more complicated."

     She went on to explain how they had met Captain Jack Harkness at the end of the universe, how they had helped a harmless old professor fly to Utopia. How that harmless old professor turned out to be a Time Lord, far more cruel and dangerous than the Doctor. How the Master had taken over the world, and the horrors she had suffered during the Year to stop him.

     Lestrade helped tell the story as well, adding his own experiences and his own take on the Year That Never Was. Before, Donna had thought he was just concerned for Molly. But now she could see that the Year had scarred him too, even if he hid it better. His closeness with Molly had to do with more than the Year, obviously, but her odd friendship with Sherlock suddenly made a lot more sense. They had been soldiers together. That was why she'd been willing to put up with him.

     The rest of Molly's behavior made sense too. Her closed-off behavior, her initial uncertainty about having Donna on board the TARDIS, her resentment towards the Doctor. All of it was connected to the Year. Donna couldn't begin to imagine how terrifying that Year must have been. Having to abandon people to die, traveling on an Earth where everything was trying to kill you, knowing that the entire world was depending on you. The part about John Watson dying was surprising, but it made sense. Sherlock must have been devastated.

     It wasn't just those three she felt sorry for, either. The Doctor may not have had to travel the Earth for a year, but he had suffered a loss. Donna already knew what had happened to his planet. She couldn't imagine how it must have felt for him to find another Time Lord, only for him to die in the Doctor's arms. That must have been the most devastating loss. The Doctor and Molly might be busy feeling sorry for each other, but Donna could see that everyone had lost something that year.

     When Molly and Lestrade's story was over, Donna reached across and grabbed Molly's hand, giving it a right squeeze. "I'm sorry, Molly," she said quietly.

     The companion gave her a quick smile. "Thank you." She had been quiet when she was telling her story, but now, somehow, she seemed happier than she had been in a long time. The only way Donna could think to describe it was that she looked at peace.

     Awk was gazing at Molly with a quiet sense of respect. "When I fought on Iree, I had hundreds of people backing me. I may have been facing impossible odds, but I always knew I wasn't alone. I can't imagine going through a fight like that on your own."

     Molly shook her head. "I had the Hooper Army," she reminded the Avian. "That was enough. And I had the Doctor's support, even if I didn't always appreciate it at the time. At least my war ended better than yours." She glanced at Victor Hugo as she added, "Or yours."

     The writer raised an eyebrow. “If you're referring to Les Miserables, I didn't fight that day. I was there though. I was hiding. Maybe that makes me a coward. I don't know.”

     “Not every battle is yours to fight,” Molly reminded him gently. “You didn't have any weapon. If you'd gotten killed in that fight, the June Rebellion would have been forgotten by history. Les Miserables is the only reason that battle is still talked about. You're the one that made that possible.”

     Hugo gave a small smile. “That's the power of history,” he observed. “It has a funny way of writing itself. Sometimes, we can tame it with literature and other forms of record, but it's never truly in our control. It has a life of it's own.”

     Molly chuckled. “More than you know. The Doctor and I have interfered with more history than I can remember, but it never went exactly the way we imagined.” She gave the writer a suddenly mischievous glance. “Speaking of Les Miserables. I know I said it's my favorite book, but if you don't mind me saying Monsieur Hugo, you do tend to go off on some useless tangents. I mean, that part with the sewers? What was that about?”

     Hugo gave her an unamused look. “The purpose of my books is to shine light on history. What point would there be in mentioning the sewers without discussing the history behind them? Or the history of the convent that sheltered Jean Valjean and Cosette? Or the battle of Waterloo? My stories are steeped in the middle of all this history. They weave themselves around it, allowing the book to explore it and intertwine it with the world the plot creates. The Hunchback of Notre Dame allowed me to tell the story of the Notre Dame Cathedral as well as Quasimodo. Architecture, wars, they deserve as much attention as a pretty story."

     He turned to Awk as he added, "I only wish I could have told your history. But, I suppose in a way, I already did. The battle at the barricades was based on the June Rebellion, but in a way it was also based on your fight. The character of Enjolras has a lot of you in him. And I can see the same determination in you, Miss Hooper. Your Detective Inspector Lestrade would be your Courfeyrac, and this Sherlock sounds like he would be your Combferre. Although, perhaps there is some Grantaire in there as well."

     Donna wasn't entirely sure what characters Hugo was referring to, Molly grinned brightly, so she must've understood what he was going on about.

**SCENEBREAK**

     As the Time Lord came to the top of a ledge, down below was one of the sleek, black Judoon ships.

     The Doctor grinned to himself. "Gotcha."

     The word had barely left his mouth when he heard the cock of guns behind him. He turned to see that other than the ledge behind him, he was entirely surrounded by armed Judoon, all of them with weapons raised and pointed directly at his chest.

     In a low, gruff tone, one of the Judoon asked, "What are you doing here?"

     The Doctor froze. A quick glance over the Judoon confirmed that there was no room to escape. Even if he managed to squeeze past one of them and run for it, he'd be shot down before he could get so much as ten feet. He was well and truly trapped.

     Externally, he kept his usual cheery demeanor. "Just going for a stroll." They probably thought he was just a human from the town. No reason to change their minds about that just yet. "Didn't mean to stumble over your ship... thingy. Sorry about that."

     The Judoon blinked at him, unamused. "All humans are supposed to remain in the town," one grunted.

     An idea occurred to the Doctor. "Yeah, sorry, I was actually looking for you lot. I wanted to help. I was wondering if I could get another look at that wanted poster?"

     The rhino-like creatures stared blankly at him for several moments. Finally, one of them pulled out a thin, metallic sheet with Awk's name and picture on it. Underneath the picture, there was a note that read, "Wanted for high treason."

     The Doctor frowned. That didn't tell him anything he didn't already know. He tried a different tactic. "Can't say I've seen him around. Still, looks like he'd be hard to miss. What makes you guys think he's here?”

     The Judoon exchanged looks. “We are only supposed to ask the humans where to find the criminal,” one pointed out.

     “We should take him to the client,” another added.

      _The client. That sounds promising._ The Doctor grinned cheerfully at the Judoon. “Sounds like fun. Take me to your leader.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     The travelers had been waiting in Awk's bunker for several minutes. Any remaining paranoia about being found had faded, leaving them mostly bored. And, more recently, hungry.

     “So, who's going to brave the rhinos and get something from the kitchen?” Donna asked. “Because if we don't get some food soon, I'm pretty sure I'm going to eat one of you.”

     Awk shook his head. “There's food back there in storage.” He gestured back to the only door in the room. “I wanted this place stocked in case I ever needed to spend a few days down here. There should be plenty for all of us.”

     Greg started to get to his feet. “I'll see what I can scrounge up.”

     “I'll come with you,” Molly said quickly. Greg gave her a questioning look; she returned it with a quick smile. After a moment, he shrugged. She took it as an assent and got to her feet. Before she followed Greg through the door, she noticed Donna giving her a knowing look.

     The door led them through a narrow hallway before taking them back to a storage room. The walls were all metal, and there were fridges and cabinets set up all around the room. The two travelers set to work, collecting food that looked promising.

     After a few minutes, Greg spoke up. “So, I'm guessing there's a reason there needed to be two of us finding food.”

     Molly paused. After talking with Donna, she knew the next step she wanted to take. This was something she had been thinking about for a long time, and she knew that now was the right time. “I'm still recovering from the Year That Never Was,” she began, speaking clearly and slowly. “I don't know how long it'll take for me to stop having nightmares or flashbacks. Maybe they'll never stop, maybe I'll just learn to live with them. But I've started the path to recovery. I've started talking with people. The Doctor and Donna have both been there for me. They both know everything now. I don't have anything to hide from anyone anymore. I can just focus on moving on.”

     Another pause. “I'd like to do that with you at my side. If you'd like.”

     Greg glanced back at her in surprise. After a few moments, his expression softened, warm affection in his eyes. He reached out and grabbed her hand, warm, calloused fingers entwining her hers. “I'd like that,” he said softly.

     Molly smiled. She remembered her years of pining over Sherlock Holmes, the way she fantasized over him, before finally moving on for her own good. She remembered Greg finding them with Sherlock in 221B before the Year began. The way he had followed her willingly into a year-long struggle to survive, ready to accept her as leader of their little cause without any hesitation. All the times they'd had each other's backs during the Year That Never Was. His calm support when she'd been freaking out when they were trapped in a cell together. Her panic at the thought of his death. The comfortable ease between them ever since he'd joined on with the TARDIS family. Now, she was finally ready for the next step.

     She reached out an put a hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing against faint stubble. Their entwined hands fell apart as they leaned in. The companion closed her eyes as they kissed. It was soft and slow, and nothing like the hundreds of times she imagined kissing Sherlock Holmes, but somehow it was so much better than any of that. Her eyes opened, and she saw dark brown eyes in front of her instead of the cold blue she had longed for years ago. It was the perfect view. She felt his lips move against hers as he smiled, and her eyes closed against as they pulled back slightly, foreheads resting together and her hand still on his cheek.

     After several moments, Greg reminded her that they needed to get back to the others. They, somewhat reluctantly, gathered the food they had scrounged up and headed back to the safe room. Awk and Hugo accepted their return without any scruples, but Donna gave them an amused look as they walked back in. When Greg turned his back to hand food to Awk, Donna mouthed, _”Finally!”_ Molly shook her head with exasperation, but couldn't quite hold back a grin.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Doctor allowed the Judoon to lead him into their ship without protest. As they led him inside, his gaze swept critically over the interior, seeking out any weaknesses and noting all the exits. If he was found out or asked too many questions, he might have to make a quick getaway.

     Once he was in the center of the room, one of the Judoon left through a door, returning a few moments later with what the Doctor assumed was the client. It was an Avian like Awk, but this one looked older. He had darker blue feathers, and wore a sleek blue and silver uniform. His eyes were narrowed and his expression cool as he demanded, "Who is this?"

     The Judoon answered, "This human found our ships, Admiral Penkh. He offered to help with the investigation."

     The Doctor grinned cheerfully at the new Avian. "Hello! I'm the Doctor. Admiral Penkh, wasn't it? Say, you look an awful lot like that alien thing those guys are looking for. Are from the same planet? Is that why you're looking for him?"

     Penkh glanced at the Doctor with narrowed eyes, not bothering to respond to his babbled questions. "We don't need any humans knowing where our ship is. Kill him."

     As the Judoon raised their guns again, the Doctor held up his hands, saying hastily, "Or, on the other hand, we could talk about this." With one hand, he began to reach into his coat. The Judoon switched their guns on, ready to shoot before he could pull out a gun, but all he pulled out was the psychic paper. He flipped it open, displaying the necessary credentials to the admiral.

     Penkh's cold anger melted away immediately. "You're from the Shadow Proclamation," he realized.

     The Doctor dropped the goofy civilian act, taking on an air of authority. "You bet I am. Now what was that about, trying to kill a peaceful civilian from a Level Five planet?"

     The admiral's eyes widened, a trace of fear in his expression. He dipped his head politely. "My apologies. We, ah, had reason to believe you were a spy. The criminal we are seeking has many connections."

     "Uh-huh." The Doctor wasn't convinced, but this might be the best opportunity he would get to get the information he needed. "Tell you what, let me have a look around your ship, tell me all about your operation, and if that's the only mark I can find against you, I'll let you off with a warning."

     Penkh nodded. "Of course. Come this way." He led the Doctor towards a door, leading to the interior of the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I actually wrote a first kiss between Hoopstrade. I usually suck at writing romance, and this was not an easy scene to write for me, but now that it's actually written down, I feel okay-ish about it. Hopefully I'll be able to write them well as a couple.
> 
> And yes, the Doctor has found the Judoon. And yes, Donna finally knows about the Year That Never Was. Fun stuff. And I hope the Mizzies out there (Les Miserables fans) understood the references to characters that Hugo was making.
> 
> Thanks to Doodlegirll for looking over the Hoopstrade kiss scene for me and assuring me that it wasn't too awful to be seen by human eyes.


	50. Of Birds and Toads: Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor tries to get information from the Judoon and Penkh.

     The Doctor followed Penkh into the back of the ship, keeping an eye on the Judoon as he passed them. They walked past holding cells of several different sizes. As they walked, Penkh told him, “As you can see, everything here is in order. We have all the facilities necessary for a smooth and orderly transport for the criminal off the planet."

     The Doctor nodded, brow furrowed thoughtfully. "So, tell me more about this criminal of yours," he pressed. "This Awk fellow you're after. What is he wanted for?"

     "Nine years ago, Awk was one of several leaders of a terrorist organization on my planet," Penkh explained. "He's responsible for the deaths of countless Avians. We managed to stop the terrorists, but Awk escaped the planet. He's been wanted ever since."

     The Time Lord raised an eyebrow. "Alright, but you said that was nine years ago," he pointed out. "Has it really taken you that long to find him?"

     Penkh shook his head gravely. "No. Very recently, a new band of terrorists has formed, taking after the example of Awk and those who followed him. They know that Awk escaped last time. They see him as a sort of rallying point, like some sort of vigilante hero. If he attacked our country and got away with it, why can't they?" He lifted his muzzle sternly, eyes narrowed as he continued, "We decided to pull in every resource we could to track him down. To show the terrorists that what they are doing will not be tolerated, and that even their hero will have to face the punishments for his crimes."

     So that was why Awk was suddenly being hunted. The rebellion on Iree had started up again, and they wanted to take away the hope of the rebels.

     The Doctor cleared his throat. "Well, that's all well and good," he said matter-of-factly, "and normally I'd say that's quite alright. But, and this is a pretty big but, what you're doing here is illegal."

     Penkh stiffened, his feathers ruffling slightly as the Doctor continued, "This is a Level Five planet. Your Judoon over there don't have the jurisdiction to be here, let alone conduct a criminal investigation. If you wanted to extract a fugitive from this planet, you needed to put a request through the Shadow Proclamation."

     The admiral's gaze darted away, the feathers on the back of his neck ruffling tensely. “I was not aware of this,” he said stiffly. “I apologize. Once we have Awk in out custody, we'll sort it out.”

     The Doctor continued on as if the admiral hadn't spoken. “And even if _that_ was the only thing you did wrong, I still might be inclined to listen. Except, there's one teensy little mistake you made." The Time Lord's expression suddenly became serious, his voice hard as he said, "You tried to kill me when you thought I was human. You've got orders to kill any human that gets too nosy. That tells me you're worried about word getting out about the invasion of the rhino aliens, and you're willing to kill to keep it quiet. And that tells me that you're not really the kind of leader I'd want ruling me."

     Penkh turned to glare at him, all pretense of being friendly gone. He seemed to realize that he was cornered."What do you want?" he snapped.

     "For you to leave this planet and never come back," the Doctor replied immediately. That was the best-case scenario he could hope for. If he managed to scare the Avians away from coming back to Earth ever again, maybe Awk still had a chance at a life here.

     Penkh stared coolly at the Doctor, measuring him. "You're really not going to let this go?"

     "Nope."

     The admiral looked past the Doctor and gave a short nod. Before the Time Lord could move, there were two Judoon pinning his arms behind his back and forcing him to his knees. He tried to pull himself loose, but the Judoon were too strong. He had to settle for glaring up at Penkh. "I guess I should have seen this coming," he said lightly. Although, to be fair, he probably should have.

     Penkh ignored him. The Avian turned to the Judoon, his tone tight and anxious. "Double your patrols. I want Awk captured so we can get off this damn rock before someone realizes he's missing."

     "Do you you want us to kill him, Admiral?" one of the Judoon grunted.

     Penkh rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, his feathers still ruffled. "What, kill a member of the Shadow Proclamation with a Judoon weapon? There'd be a manhunt to find the culprits, and how long do you think it would take for us to be found out?" The Avian paused, his feathers starting to lie flat again. He turned to one of the Judoon. "Go to the human village. Find one of their weapons. If he's found killed by a human weapon, they'll just think he got caught on a mission here and paid the price with his life. No reason to suspect we were ever here."

     The Judoon nodded, turning and exiting the room. The Doctor watched all this with vague concern. He wasn't too worried about actually being killed. If anything, the reformation energy might be enough to knock them down long enough for him to escape. But he didn't really feel like regenerating today. Donna would definitely kill him if he showed up with a new face without warning. Besides, he rather liked this regeneration. It would be a shame to lose it so soon.

     He'd just have to figure out another way out of here.

**SCENEBREAK**

     "That friend of yours has been gone way too long."

     Molly turned to look anxiously at the stairs. Hugo was right. It had been a couple hours since the Doctor had left, and he still wasn't back. “It shouldn't have taken him this long to question the Judoon,” Donna said.

     “Which probably means he's been captured,” Molly said grimly.

     Awk's expression was tight with concern. “If he's been taken by the Judoon, we don't have very long. They'll kill him if they think he'll talk.”

     Molly and the others looked at him in alarm. “You really think they'll kill him?” Greg asked.

     “If they were hired by the Kyterian government?” Awk said softly. “Definitely. They wouldn't want anyone who might try and stop them from finding me. I already told you they're not shy about killing people to get what they want.”

     Molly and Donna exchanged a worried glance. They had to get the Doctor out of there. The companion stood. "I'll go look for him. Greg, you coming?" If the Doctor had gotten nabbed for being out alone at night, maybe a young couple out for a midnight stroll might escape their notice. Even if they were in period-inappropriate clothing.

     Greg nodded, rising out of his chair. "Of course." The two of them made their way up the stairs, the floorboards sliding shut behind them.

     Once they were outside, Molly and Greg began searching the town. They walked through the cobblestone streets, her hand in his, him walking slightly behind her to her right. It was a small adjustment that neither even had to think about anymore, left over from the Year. Molly was the leader, so she walked at the front. Greg walked at her right side, and Sherlock hung farther behind to her left, because he was the best at spotting anyone who might be following them. The hand- holding was new, but they were posing as a couple after all - and now, they kinda were one.

     Right now, walking with Greg in an abandoned town in the dead of night, it felt like the Year again. Like Sherlock was just a few steps behind them, and they'd have to be ready to teleport at any moment in case there were wild dogs or Toclafane about. But somehow, it didn't bother her now as much as it would have. She felt a strange, quiet sort of confidence. Greg was backing her, she had Donna and the Doctor to support her when she needed it, and she was doing what she was good at; saving the people she cared about.

     “Where do you think the Judoon are keeping the Doctor?” Greg asked in a low voice. “They've got to have a ship around here somewhere.”

     Molly gave a quiet _hum_ of agreement, keeping an eye on the cobblestone streets and dark alleyways around them. “They'll have it somewhere out of sight, where humans wouldn't stumble over it accidentally. We should –”

     She fell silent as Greg held up a hand in warning. After a moment, she could hear it too; heavy footfalls. The travelers drew closer to the buildings, edging to the corner of the street. Around the corner, Molly could see the dark outline of a Judoon. As it stepped into the light of a streetlamp, she could see a pistol in his hand. Her eyes narrowed. “What are you doing with a human gun?” she mused in a low voice.

     The Judoon tried to stuff the pistol in its holster, but with his own gun there, there wasn't enough room. The rhino-like creature settled for shoving his gun into his belt and putting the pistol in the holster. The Judoon's gun didn't appear to be in the most stable position. When he started walking away, the gun slipped loose and fell to the ground. The Judoon walked on, not seeming to realize what had happened. Molly crept forward, waiting until the Judoon was far enough away before trying to grab the gun. She wasn't planning on shooting on anyone with it, but it could be useful for something.

     Without either suggesting it, Molly and Greg followed the Judoon. They kept a good several feet behind him, staying in the shadows as much as they could. The Judoon didn't seem to notice them. He led them away from the town, towards the beaches and the cliffs. As he took a trail down to the bottom of the cliffs, Molly and Greg stayed in the shadow of the cliff. They watched as the Judoon approached a sleek, black spaceship. There were Judoon milling around the entrance, standing guard. Molly was ready to bet there were even more inside. The Doctor was almost definitely in there

     Greg let out a low whistle. "Doesn't look like it'll be easy to get in there. What do you think?" He glanced at her, waiting silently. It truly felt like the Year, like she was the woman who walked the earth again, and he was part of her Hooper Army, letting her lead and waiting for her command.

     She frowned. "You're right. We're going to have to draw them away from the entrance." An idea suddenly came to her. Molly pulled out the Judoon gun, looking thoughtful at it. She remembered that first trip, the hospital on the moon, when the Judoon had used these to blast the plasmavore away to nothing. In a low voice, she told Greg, "When this fires, run for those bushes there. We'll wait 'til the entrance is clear, then we'll make a run for it." He nodded in confirmation.

     As she pulled the trigger, firing into the distance away from the ship, there was a red beam of heat and a loud _boom_ rang out.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Doctor had been transferred to one of the holding cells. His sonic screwdriver had been confiscated, transferred to a lockbox near the door of the room outside the cells. The Doctor glanced at it, feeling a pang of frustration. He was starting to miss the days when aliens weren't smart enough to take his sonic screwdriver.

     Penkh was in the room outside, just audible through the door. “Good, you have it. Kill the Doctor and bury him deep, then get a group together to go back into the town. I want Awk found.”

     The Time Lord stiffened. He backed up, edging against the back wall, facing the door of the cell. Maybe if he was quick enough, he'd be able to push past the Judoon when he opened the door.

     A few seconds later, a loud _boom_ echoed outside the ship. The Doctor turned to look in that direction in surprise. It sounded like a gun of some sort firing, sort of like the Judoon weapons he'd seen before. There were some murmurs from the other room, then Penkh spoke again. “You three, go see what that was.” He didn't sound too concerned. Probably thought it was one of his guards shooting at something in the dark.

     There was some shuffling about as the Judoon left to investigate, then fading footsteps. The Doctor crossed over to the door of his cell, peering out of the barred window curiously. Had another human stumbled across the ship, or was something else at play here?

     He got his answer several moments later, when the door to the cell-room opened. Molly and Lestrade made their way inside, a Judoon gun in Molly's hand. She glanced around the room, gaze locking on the Time Lord's cell. “Doctor!” She and Lestrade made their way over to the cell, glancing around nervously.

     The Doctor grinned out at his companions. “How'd you get in here?”

     Molly held up the gun. “Used this to distract them, get them away from the entrance. We didn't run into anybody on the ship.”

     “Penkh must have moved,” the Doctor realized.

     Lestrade's brow furrowed. “Who?”

     The Doctor shook his head. “It doesn't matter. Listen, we need to move quickly, they'll be back soon. My sonic screwdriver's in the box.” He nodded toward the lockbox. “Think you can get it out?”

     “I'm on it,” Molly promised with a small grin. She turned to the lockbox, raising the gun toward it. When it fired, a beam of red heat fired out from it, as loud as last time, melting away the corner of the lockbox. Eventually, the entire lid melted away, leaving the sonic screwdriver exposed. Lestrade plucked it from the scorched remains of the box and handed it to Molly, swapping it for the gun. As they worked, Molly warned the Doctor, “They'll have heard that. Is there another way off this ship?”

     The companion switched the Sonic Screwdriver on, pointing it at the lock on the door. The Doctor had shown her how to use some of the settings over the years, so it didn't take long for her to get the door open. The Doctor stepped out of the cell. “Yeah, I saw another exit down this hallway. Come on.”

     The three travelers hurried down the hallway, conscious of the sound of footsteps getting closer outside. The Doctor took them through a door down the opposite end of the hallway. They took a few more turns before reaching the door he'd seen outside the ship before. They managed to slip outside the door and creep over to the shade of some nearby trees, but there were Judoon nearby, scouting out the passage by the cliff. That was the only way away from the beach, and they were blocking it.

     Before the Doctor could suggest anything, Lestrade took the Judoon gun and lobbed it as hard as he could away from them, towards a clump of bushes away from the passage. The Judoon looked around in alarm, heading to the bushes to investigate. In a few moments, the passage was clear.

     “Now!” Molly ordered. All three bolted for the passage, just managing to dodge the onslaught of gunfire once the Judoon noticed them. They took off towards the town, the Judoon hard on their heels, but slowly falling farther and farther behind. The rhino-like creatures couldn't keep up with the lighter, more agile humans. By the time they reached the town, they had lost their pursuers.

     The Doctor took over then, leading them quickly through the town until they reached Awk's house. They hurried inside, knocking on the floorboards so Awk would know to let them in. After a few moments, the floorbloads pulled back, letting them in. One by one, they slipped inside, the Doctor heading last. Only when the floorboards slid shut behind them did he being to relax, the adrenaline that had helped him escape fading.

     Awk, Hugo, and Donna were all on their feet, looking anxiously at the three new arrivals. “What happened? Were you followed?” Hugo demanded.

     “For a bit, but we lost them,” Lestrade explained.

     “Tell us what happened,” Awk said. His voice was quiet, but there was a tinge of fear in it, as much as he tried to cover it up. The Doctor could tell that he was truly afraid of being found and killed after all this time.

     The three of them explained what had happened, starting with how the Doctor had been caught, and what he had found out from Penkh, ending in how they had escaped. Awk listened, the furrow in his brow increasing as he continued. However, when the Doctor mentioned the new rebellion on Iree, his expression turned lighter, something like hope lighting in his eyes. “They're fighting again?” His voice was very vulnerable and hopeful when he said this.

     The Doctor nodded. “That's what Penkh said, anyway.”

     Awk turned away, hands crossed behind his back and posture pensive. No one spoke, waiting to see what the Avian was thinking. Finally, he turned back to them, his expression decisive. “Do you know if there's any point when the Judoon won't be in town?”

     The Time Lord thought about it. “They're pretty desperate to find you quickly. But now that I've escaped, they probably think the Shadow Proclamation will be looking for them. They'll probably keep low during the day, when it would be easier to find them. Why?”

     “And you said you had a spaceship, right?” Awk asked, not bothering to answer his question. The Doctor nodded quietly in response. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

     Hugo did as well. “You're going back,” he realized quietly.

     The Avian nodded. “I have to. If there's a chance, if there's even a chance of beating them, I have to help. Earth has been wonderful, but Iree is my home. And this is the only way to draw the Judoon away from Earth. If I don't leave, they'll keep coming back until they find me.” He turned to the Doctor. “When the sun rises, take me to your spaceship. I want to go home to Iree.”

     The Doctor grinned. “Alright.” They finally had a plan, and a way to draw the Judoon away from Earth. “But we need to do this publicly. The Judoon have to know that you've left Earth.”

     Awk grinned for the first time, a bit of that rebellious spirit burning in his eyes. “Excellent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost done with this episode. There should only be one more part after this.
> 
> And here we are, at chapter 50 of The Soldier Who Stayed, the same number of chapters that The Woman Who Counted had total. And I'm just a bit over halfway done. Heh. Oops. I really didn't mean for TSWS to be so much longer than TWWC, but that's how it happened. Ah well.
> 
> Thank you all so much for sticking with this story for so long. I truly appreciate all the comments and reviews and watches and kudos and subscriptions. They make me feel so appreciated. :) Here's hoping you all stick around for the rest of the story, and that you enjoy it right up to the end.


	51. Of Birds and Toads: Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and company try to figure out how to get Awk home, and Hugo muses on a quote from his own book.

     Since they couldn't move to the TARDIS until morning, the travelers decided to get some sleep for the night. There wasn't much in the way of bedding, unfortunately. There were a few blankets and pillows, and there was the couch, but that was it. "I wasn't exactly planning on there being a lot of people down here," Awk explained apologetically. "I thought it was just going to be me."

     "It's fine," the Doctor brushed it off easily. After some protesting and arguments, they finally figured out who got what. Donna, Lestrade, and Hugo took the three blankets, Molly took a couple of the pillows, and Awk finally allowed them to convince him to take the couch. For all his protesting, it was clear his fear had work him out, and he was the first to fall asleep. The rest of them agreed to take turns keeping watch, rotating every hour, in case the Judoon figured out a way into the bunker.

     A few hours later, Donna and Lestrade were asleep, and Awk was still out. The Doctor was up and pacing, as usual. He didn't need as much sleep as the humans or the Avian, so he had declined taking any of the blankets or pillows in favor of standing watch. Molly was still up as well, and to her surprise, so was Victor Hugo. The author sat in one of the chairs, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a shawl, face tired and weathered with worry. Molly herself was sitting on a pile of pillows, nestled comfortably even without any blankets or mattress. She'd had worse sleeping arrangements before, this was far from uncomfortable.

     Even as she tried to sleep, she could hear the Doctor ask Hugo, “So, Monsieur, I have to say, I wasn't expecting for you to be involved in all this.” Molly lifted her head, deciding to forgo trying to sleep in order to join the conversation.

     Hugo let out a small, humorless laugh. He glanced at Awk, a small smile softening his features. “Neither was I. I was never one to think about nonsense like other worlds. But then I met Awk.”

     Molly smiled. “It must have been mad seeing a huge bird-like thing walking around.”

     “It was definitely strange,” Hugo agreed. “It made me question a lot of things I thought I knew. About our world. It must be so small compared to everything that could be out there.” His face suddenly seemed far older and more tired. “I'm certainly no saint. I've made plenty of mistakes in my life. I try to make up for it through recording the history of my planet. Making heard the voices of those who would otherwise be forgotten. But in the face of such a wide universe, sometimes I wonder what impact I could ever possibly make.”

     The Doctor was silent for a few moments. When he spoke again, his tone was thoughtful. “You know, there's a quote in Les Miserabes that I've always been fond of. 'The toad is always looking up at the sky. Why? To see the bird fly.'"

     Hugo nodded. "I had just met Awk when I wrote it. I felt so small, looking up in wonder at a great universe that was unfolding before me. It seemed to fit with Grantaire's fascination with Enjolras."

     "That sounds like when I first started traveling," Molly recalled. "Seeing all these great sights, getting to meet so many people and aliens. I always sort of shuffled through life hoping not to get noticed, but when I met the Doctor, I realized there was so much to see out there."

     The Doctor smiled softly. For a moment, Molly could see all nine hundred years in his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder," he said softly, "if humans have too low an opinion of themselves. I've seen a lot of wonderful, amazing things out there. Beautiful planets and moons and galaxies. Aliens of all kinds. But somehow, I always found myself drawn back to Earth. One tiny little planet in all of the universe. Somehow, the humans here never stopped amazing me." The Time Lord glanced at Molly with a warm smile, which she returned.

     "Then I suppose it's a matter of who is the bird and who is the toad," Hugo mused.

     Molly leaned back against her pillow pile, glancing back at the sleeping Greg and Donna. She smiled softly as she looked at Greg, thinking about what he meant to her, and what had led to that. If it was a matter of birds and toads, then when she had first started traveling with the Doctor, she definitely would have counted herself as the toad.

     To her surprise, as she thought about it, she realized she still would have given that answer after the Year. Humanity was the toad and the universe was the bird. It wasn't just the Doctor she had lost faith in. It was humanity itself. She had seen humans at their absolute worst during the year, and that had left an impact on her. But Sherlock, and Donna, and Greg, had brought that faith in humankind back. They had reminded her that just as there were terrible, hateful people out there, there were people that were pure and good and wonderful. People she could love.

     If it was a matter of birds and toads, then humans were birds just as much as they were toads.

     When Molly turned back to look at the Doctor and Hugo again, she saw that the writer was glancing sadly at the Avian. "You're going to miss him, aren't you?" she said softly.

     Hugo sighed. "Yes. Awk has been my good friend for nine years. Sometimes I feel as though I talk more freely with him than anyone else I know." He looked anxiously back at the Doctor and Molly. "Awk has told me stories of his war. Before, he was one of many leaders. Now, he is the face of the revolution, the rebels' darling. I fear he'll be hunted more fiercely than ever before."

     "Probably," Molly admitted. "The more of a threat you become, the harder it is to stay hidden. And sometimes the people you're trying to protect die trying to keep you safe. Being the leader of a fight like that can be a horrible burden. But Awk is strong. He'll make it through this fight. Especially now that he has someone to fight with."

     The writer glanced at the Avian with a fond smile. "He has always been so much braver than me. When he sees injustice, he risks his life to stop it, where I've only ever had courage enough to fight with my words." His expression softened into sadness. "If I thought it would help, I would go with him. But I fear that I would only be trading one kind of cowardice for another. There are problems I've caused on this Earth that I would rather run from than face. Memories I would sooner leave behind. In the end, perhaps the braver thing for me to do would be to stay. Stay and hope that one day I might see my friend again."

     Molly turned to look at the sleeping Avian as well. Is this what the Doctor had felt like when he'd had to send her to walk the Earth? Like he was a coward for not going with her, and that he might never see her again? She looked back at the Time Lord in time to see his distant, pained expression. He must have been remembering the Year. Molly reached across, grabbing his hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. The Doctor looked at her in surprise. After a moment, he smiled again, giving her a small nod of thanks.

      The companion turned back to Victor Hugo. "We can't help Awk with the war," she said firmly. "But we can help him get home."

**SCENEBREAK**

      The next morning, the travelers woke quickly, talking briefly before putting their plan into action. Lestrade and Donna were put on Judoon duty. Their job was to get the Judoon's attention so they could lure them to the middle of town.

     Lestrade was slightly nervous about their plan to get the Judoon to follow them. He wasn't terribly worried about the Judoon catching up with them. The rhino-creatures weren't very fast, and they hadn't been able to catch up last time. He was more concerned about him or Donna being shot while they were trying to run from the Judoon. He had seen what the Judoon weapons could do, and he wasn't particularly eager to get hit by one of them.

      The detective inspector waited in the shade of the passage while Donna approached the spaceship. She raced straight up to the ship, banging desperately on the wide metal door. They were banking on the Judoon being too desperate to find Awk to shoot someone with possible information about him on sight. Lestrade _really_ didn't like this part of the plan, but Donna said she could get them to listen to her, so he decided to trust her. Besides, there was often little point in arguing with Donna. His job was to be there in case anything happened and offer a diversion so Donna could run for it. They only needed one messenger for the Judoon, but if they needed to escape, it would be harder to chase two of them.

     The door slid open, revealing two Judoon behind it. They glared down at Donna with their cold, beady black gazes. "How did you find this place?" one asked, the low, gruff voice unusually sharp. They both had tight grips on the guns in their holsters. Lestrade watched their hands uneasily, ready to move to defend Donna if they looked ready to shoot.

     Donna didn't seem to notice the danger. She was all hysterics, her hands making huge, exaggerated motions, and her voice and expression wild as she told them, "Oh please, you have to hurry! That Avian thing, that Awk, he's in the town, he's got a gun! Please, sir, please!" She began tugging on the Judoon's arm, which earned an impressed raise of the eyebrows from Lestrade. “He's threatening to kill people. Please, you have to stop him!”

     The Judoon glanced at each other before looking down at the short ginger woman. One of them grunted, “Show us.” Lestrade relaxed as the relief washed over him. It looked like the plan was working, for now.

     He kept ahead of Donna and the Judoon as the ginger companion led them to town. Once they reached the old buildings and the cobblestone streets, Donna dodged down an alley, letting Lestrade lead her down the twisting roads and turns until they were far out of the Judoon's range. They were supposed to get well out of the way when the final confrontation happened. They turned a final corner before stopping, watching furtively from the shadow of an alley as the Judoon stepped out in the middle of the street.

     The Judoon glanced around, blinking in confusion. They were in a large clearing in town, with a wide open area and no people around. Everyone still seemed to be hiding inside their houses. Lestrade could see a few people peeking out of their windows, watching the encounter ensuing below.

     In the middle of the street was the TARDIS. It was big and blue and somehow defiant just in its stance. And it wasn't alone. Just as the Judoon turned the corner, Awk saw them coming and stepped into the TARDIS, in plain view of the Judoon. The rhino-like creatures rushed at the box, but it was too late. Awk was inside, and the resounding _click_ of the lock made it clear the the Judoon wouldn't be getting in any time soon. They pulled and yanked on the handle of the TARDIS door with everything they had, but it wasn't enough. Finally, they admitted defeat.

     One of the Judoon pulled out some sort of communication device. He switched it on, speaking into it with a low rumble. “We found the Avian. Send back-up.” Lestrade and Donna exchanged a look. They had been banking on one more thing, just one more thing to make this all work.

     They got what they wanted a few minutes later, when several more Judoon arrived, along with another creature that was very decidedly not a Judoon. It was an Avian, the Avian Penkh that had ordered this manhunt for Awk in the first place, and he was just the Avian Donna and Lestrade wanted to see right now. He was the last piece they needed to get this confrontation rolling.

     Lestrade pulled out his phone and texted Molly. A few moments later, the door to the TARDIS swung open, and Awk stepped out along with the Doctor. Molly and Hugo must have decided to stay inside the ship.

     Penkh's eyes widened. “Shoot the traitor!” he cried. The Judoon raised their guns and opened fired on the Avian and the Time Lord. The TARDIS's outer force field deflected the shots, leaving both the Doctor and Awk totally unharmed.

     When the Judoon finally ceased their fire, Awk took a small step forward, grinning unpleasantly at Penkh and his Judoon bodyguards. There was a fierce light in his eyes, and a certain determination in his posture. “We haven't met, Admiral Penkh,” Awk began. “You're one of many who destroyed what my planet used to be. Just one drone in a huge army that I couldn't have hoped to beat. Especially not when you cheat like this. Bribing Judoon to search for me outside of their jurisdiction? Really? But now, the fight's started again, hasn't it?” A muscle twitched in Penkh's face, but he said nothing. “This time, we're going to win. I'll make sure of it myself. I'm going back to Iree. If you want to find me, find me there. You won't find me on this piece of rock again.”

     With that, Awk turned and stepped inside the TARDIS, the Doctor following him inside with a final smirk at the Judoon. The door locked shut behind them, and a few moments later, the TARDIS started fading in and out of view with a _vworp, vworp, vworp._ In a matter of moments, the TARDIS was gone completely.

     Penkh gaped at the spot where the blue box had disappeared, blinking rapidly. Lestrade wasn't sure what had shocked him more, the TARDIS's rapid exit, or the fact that his fugitive had been right in front of him and had still gotten away. The Judoon glanced at him, blinking uncertainly. “What do you want us to do, Admiral?” one asked dully.

     After a few moments, Penkh shook his head. “We'll sweep the area to make sure he isn't hiding anywhere,” he said with a resigned tone, “then we'll head back to Iree. Let's see Awk try to hide from us there.” With that, he turned and strode off, the Judoon following after.

     Lestrade and Donna followed them discreetly, letting them check every corner of town again. Penkh seemed to grow more and more agitated the longer it took to find Awk. Finally, he admitted defeat. Donna and Lestrade watched from a safe distance as the ship took off, sending the Judoon and the Avian back into space. Once Lestrade was sure they wouldn't be coming back, he texted Molly again. “ _Penkh's gone._ ” Now she'd know it was safe for the TARDIS to return to Earth.

     They made their way back to the clearing, just in time to see the TARDIS become completely solid once more. This time, only the Doctor stepped out, followed by Molly and Victor Hugo. Awk was gone.

     “Did you get him somewhere safe on Iree?” Donna asked as they approached the TARDIS?

     Hugo nodded. “We materialized in the middle of one of the rebel bases during the last war. The new rebels were hiding out there. They seemed overjoyed to see their hero returned.” There was a sadness in his tone, but also pride for the courage of his friend. “It was incredible. So many Avians. For a moment, I got to stand on an alien world.” He turned to the Doctor, his eyes wide with wonder. “Is that what every day of your life is like?”

     The Doctor grinned. “Like you said, Monsieur Hugo. Everywhere I go, I'm just a humble toad.”

     The writer shook his head. “No, you are far more than that, my friend. And I hope we will meet again someday. And who knows? Perhaps my path will cross with Awk's again.” He reached out and shook the Doctor's hand heartily.

     He turned next to Lestrade, shaking his hand as well. “You, my brave fellow, thank you for fetching the Doctor back when he lost his way. And you,” he added, turning to Donna. “Miss Noble, what you did today with the Judoon was very brave. Thank you for taking that risk for my friend.”

     At last he turned to Molly, his weathered old face bright and merry. “And you, my great fan. Thank you for reminding this old man that there are different kinds of courage. I think from now on, it will be my place to stay here. This town has been visited by aliens. They will need help coming to terms with that.” He leaned back, gazing at Molly curiously. “Before you go, is there anything I can do for you?”

     Molly pretended to think for a moment. “Let me see. I'm in the past, meeting my favorite author of all time, and I have one favor to ask...” A moment later, the charade ended, and she beamed brilliantly. “I'm getting my copy of Les Miserables _signed!_ ”

     She reached out and grabbed Lestrade's hand, starting to pull him back into the TARDIS. “I'll be right back, I just need to grab the book.”

     As Lestrade followed Molly into the TARDIS, he noticed the Doctor grinning at them, then turning to Donna and telling her smugly, “So, it's been two months, yeah? I think you'll recall what that means?”

     Grumbling, but not quite able to cover up her own smug joy, Donna pulled out her wallet and handed the Doctor a few quid.

     Lestrade wasn't quite sure what that had been about. But he soon forgot about it as Molly turned to grin at him, and he grinned back. They made their way into the TARDIS, not caring what the people that were behind them were thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late, so I'm gonna keep this short. Yes, I brought the bet back. Yes, that quote from Les Miserables is where the title of the episode comes from. I tried to include more of Hugo's character here, and I hope I succeeded.
> 
> As for what's happening in my life. Well. Let's just say I spent almost two days in the burn center of the hospital because a full bowl of soup fresh out of the microwave was accidentally spilled on my legs. :D Fun times.
> 
> I have first and second degree burns on my legs. The doctors released me from the hospital today, but they said not to do much walking the next two weeks. My legs are swaddled in about four layers of bandage, there's still some pain, and I have to redress the burns every day, plus take a shower, which sounds like it's gonna be painful. :/
> 
> But, this might mean I have more time to write stories, so there is that.
> 
> The next episode is a canon episode. Have fun guessing which one. :)


	52. The Unicorn and the Wasp: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor takes his companions on a surprise visit.

     “Just tell us, Doctor. Where are we going?”

     The Doctor just shook his head, smiling mysteriously. He pushed forward the last lever, sending the TARDIS tumbling into flight. "It's a surprise!" he called over the roar of the flying ship.

     Molly shook her head, equal parts frustrated and amused. The Doctor had gotten a message of some kind earlier that day, and now he was being all vague and mysterious about where they were traveling for the day. He kept dropping hints and being annoyingly smug about all this. The companion sighed, full of good-natured exasperation. The Doctor may have acted like he was this big impressive figure, but he was such a child sometimes.

     After a few moments, the TARDIS shuddered to a halt. The Doctor leaned casually against the console, waving an arm towards the front door. "Take a look," he invited.

     Giving the smug Time Lord a final glare, Molly made her way down the ramp to the door, pulling it open and stepping outside. She paused outside the door in surprise, hardly leaving enough room for Donna and Greg to squeeze past her.

     Outside the TARDIS was London. 21st Century London, a boring street with a bench and a good view of the road, and people hurrying about. Molly glanced back inside the TARDIS, where the Doctor was still leaning against the console. "What, this is your great big surprise? Modern London?"

     Donna snorted. "Bit of a let-down, mate."

     "Once again, Noble, the gifts of eyesight and observation are completely wasted on you."

     The three travelers whirled around in surprise. Molly grinned. "Sherlock!"

     The detective was standing behind them, along with his flatmate. Grinning, Molly pulled the detective into a tight hug. To his credit, the detective didn't even seem surprised by the gesture anymore. He just hugged her back without protest. After she released him, Donna grabbed him and pulled him into a crushing hug. Molly and Greg exchanged an amused glance. They'd given up trying to understand Donna and Sherlock's strange friendship.

     Once everyone had said their hellos, Greg finally asked what everyone was wondering. "What are you guys doing here?"

     “We called the Doctor,” John explained. The doctor seemed much more comfortable with his flatmate now, showing none of the anger or resentment he'd displayed the last time Molly had seen him. “We figured we could use a bit of a vacation. Besides, I never did get a proper TARDIS trip.”

      _A vacation?_ That was odd. Sherlock never left 221B if he could help it, unless it was for a case. He certainly never took time off something as boring and trivial as a vacation. Molly threw Sherlock a questioning glance, but when he didn't give her any sort of explanation, she shrugged it off. Maybe he was just being extra-nice to John since he'd let his flatmate think he was dead.

     “Are you lot gonna stand around there all day?” the Doctor called from inside the TARDIS. “Come on, we've got places to be!” Rolling her eyes, Molly turned and headed back into the TARDIS, followed by the rest of the companions.

     Sherlock was the last into the TARDIS, closing the door behind him. Now that there were two extra people in the TARDIS, Molly suddenly felt like the space inside was oddly full. It was strange to see so many people in the console room.

     The Doctor grinned widely when he saw Sherlock and John. “Right! Off we go then.” He started up the TARDIS again, sending them all flying through time and space. “I've set the controls to random,” he called over the shaking of the ship. “We could end up anywhere at all in the universe.” John tried to hide it, but Molly could see his excitement. There was nothing quite like the rush you got from your first TARDIS trip.

     It didn't take long for the TARDIS to land. Once the ship stopped shaking, everyone began to move for the door. Donna managed to reach it first, followed quickly by John. Greg, Sherlock, Molly, and the Doctor.

     They stepped out into a charming country-side yard, with a weathered stone fence and a dirt path leading to a large, expensive-looking house. John gazed around with excitement, but also his usual dry snark. “You know,” he commented, “for anywhere in the universe, this looks an awful lot like Earth.”

     “I'm pretty sure it is Earth,” Molly said, glancing with amusement at the Doctor. “Doesn't mean it won't be a fun trip though.”

     The Doctor took a few steps away from the TARDIS, taking in a deep breath through the nose. “Smell that air,” he said with bright grin as the group walked up the path. “Grass and lemonade ... and a little bit of mint. A hint of mint, must be the 1920s.”

     Donna glanced at him with disbelief. “You can tell what year it is just by smelling?”

     “Oh yeah!” the Doctor replied.

     Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Or maybe it was the 1920's model car coming toward the house?” he retorted dryly.

     Molly followed his gaze to see an old, black automobile coming up the driveway. She chuckled. “You're one to talk, Sherlock,” she teased. “Aren't you usually the one deducing things from tiny details?”

     “I'd never try to pass off a deduction on something as ridiculous as smelling what year it is,” Sherlock sniffed.

     Donna shook her head. “Really starting to wonder why I missed having you around.” Before, that would have been a bitter attack, but now it was just light teasing between friends. They really had come a long way from where they were, Molly thought warmly.

     The Doctor held up a hand, shushing them quietly. Ahead of them, there were distant voices. Together, the group of travelers approached the edge of the fence, peering around it to see three men standing around. One of them, an older, bald man, told the others, “You go on up, I have to check something in the library.”

     “Oh?” another, a man in a priests' frock, inquired.

     “Alone,” the bald man said firmly.

     “This is supposed to be a party!” the priest protested with a laugh. “All this work will be the death of you.”

     Donna grinned. In a low voice, she remarked, “Never mind Planet Zog, a party in the 1920s, that's more like it!”

     “Although, Planet Zog wasn't bad either,” Greg joked, earning an inquiring look from John and a condescending one from Sherlock. “Natives there had horns that glowed depending on how old they were.”

     John blinked in surprise a few times, then shook his head. “Alright. A part in the 20's. That's... well, that's definitely something you don't see every day. So are we going?”

     “'Course,” the Doctor said dismissively. “Problem is, we haven't been invited.” He pulled the psychic paper out of his coat, grinning as he continued, “Oh I forgot, yes we have!”

     He started to walk towards the party, but Donna stopped him. “Hold on there, Spaceman.”

     His brow furrowed. “What?”

     She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you're hopeless. If we're going to a party in the 20's, then we'll need the proper attire.”

     Sherlock sighed. “Must we?” he asked. “That'll just drag this out longer.”

     “You're the one who asked to come,” she retorted immediately. “I think you can stand to wait for a bit of dress-up.”

     The Doctor grinned. “Alright. Back to the TARDIS then?” With a nod from Donna, he started back towards the blue box, followed by his companions.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Time Lord knocked impatiently on the door of the TARDIS. “We'll be late for cocktails!” he called out to the people inside. He really didn't understand humans and their fascination with taking forever to get changed. When you stuck with one coat and only switched between a few suits, it hardly took forever to change clothes. This time, he had ditched the coat in favor of the pinstripes, but it was still part of his usual look.

     Sherlock seemed to agree with him in this regard. He too was waiting outside the TARDIS, standing stiff and impatient with his hands stuffed inside his pockets. The detective also seemed determined to stick with the same long coat and scarf at all times possible. He was very like a Time Lord in this regard. Not for the first time, the Doctor found himself checking Sherlock over to make sure he wasn't carrying a fob watch anywhere on him.

     Donna was the first to step out. She swung the door of the TARDIS open, standing in the doorframe and displaying her new getup. “What d'you think? Flapper or slapper?” She wore a pretty, patterned brown dress and a necklace, with her hair done up in a bun with a headband.

     The Doctor glanced at the outfit for a moment before smiling warmly at his friend. “Flapper. You look lovely.” Donna smiled back as she stepped fully out of the ship, looking a bit shy, which was unusual for her. The Time Lord glanced back inside the TARDIS, calling out, “Are the rest of you coming?”

     “Give me a minute!” Molly called back. A few seconds later, she made her way out of the TARDIS. She was dressed in a light orange floral dress with a bow on the neckline, with her hair left long, pulled back by a single clip with a large orange flower on it. She gave an experimental twirl. “Does this work for the 20's?” she asked. “I wasn't sure about the hair, but Donna said it was fine.”

     The Time Lord grinned at her. “It looks fine,” he assured her. As he said that, John and Lestrade stepped out as well. They both wore tuxedos, which would work perfectly for the era. Lestrade, however, was also sporting a black trilby with a gray band around it. He looked like he'd stepped out of a photo of early 20's gangsters.

     Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Really, Greg?” he questioned. “Was the hat really necessary?”

     Lestrade shrugged good-naturedly. “What? You've got a silly hat, why can't I have one? It's all part of the experience.”

     The detective bristled slightly. “The hat wasn't my choice,” he grumbled. He was acting as stiff and unpleasant as ever, but somehow the Doctor felt like it wasn't as genuine. He really did seem to be much happier now, his insults more friendly than condescending. Maybe it was the fact that he had his best friend back, or maybe that he was back to his life of solving crime. Whatever it was, the Doctor was happy for him.

     Ignoring Sherlock, Lestrade offered his arm to Molly, who took it with a smile. “Care to accompany me to a pretty swingin' party?”

     Molly laughed. “That would be absolutely spiffing.” Arm in arm, they started towards the party, leaving the Doctor and the others to catch up. The Doctor and Donna ended up walking arm in arm as well, while Sherlock and John just trailed behind them.

     As they walked, Sherlock spoke up, remarking casually to Lestrade, “So, how long have you and Molly been sleeping together then?” He seemed to want to get back at Lestrade for the comment about the hat.

     The Doctor and John both glared at him, the latter hissing, “Sherlock!” Lestrade and Molly, however, seemed used to it.

     “How -” Lestrade cut himself off, shaking his head. “I'm not going to ask,” he sighed.

     “We've been together for three weeks,” Molly explained. “And if you decide to deduce anything embarrassing in front of anybody, please remember that I can totally kick your ass, and that I am _not_ afraid to do so.” She gave Sherlock a hard look that left the Doctor in no doubt that she meant what she said. He wondered vaguely what had happened during the Year that had changed her from having to work to stand up to Sherlock to being dismissively confident that she could hand his ass to him on a plate.

     Sherlock seemed convinced of it as well. He looked away in almost immediate surrender, giving a small nod. By this point, they came upon the party. There were chairs and tables set up under the shade of trees, a phonograph playing a cheery piano tune as guests and servants milled about. One of the maids noticed the travelers arriving, and called out to the others, “Look sharp, we have guests!”

     The Doctor grinned brightly, lifting a hand in greeting. “Good afternoon!”

     As Molly and Lestrade wandered off to sample some of the food, a footman walked up to the Doctor, Donna, Sherlock and John, asking politely, “Drinks for any of you?”

     “Sidecar, please,” Donna said, grinning at the footman.

     The Doctor glanced at her in amusement. “A lime and soda for me, thank you.” John placed an order for a drink, while Sherlock waved him away, clearly not interested. The Doctor wasn't even sure if Sherlock did drink. Somehow, he didn't see Sherlock being someone who would willingly inhibit his senses.

     As the footman walked away, a butler and an older-looking woman, wearing an elegant blue dress with short blond hair, approached. The butler said as they arrived, “May I announce, Lady Clemency Eddison.”

     The Time Lord grinned, tone delighted as he greeted, “Lady Edison!”

     He reached out to shake her hand. Lady Edison shook it, but she seemed puzzled as she stared at the four of them. “Forgive me, but who exactly might you be... and what are you doing here?” She glanced over at Lestrade and Molly, who were mingling with some of the servants, and added, “And who are those two?”

     “I'm the Doctor,” he explained cheerfully. “And this is Miss Donna Noble... of the, Chiswick Nobles, and Mr. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson of Baker Street. Over there is Greg Lestrade, and Molly Hooper of the London Hoopers. Our families have known each other for ages, so we were all very delighted when we received your invitation. We met at the Ambassador's reception.”

     Lady Edison regarded him suspiciously for a moment before smiling with fake warmth. “Doctor, how could I forget you?” The Doctor smiled back. Humans were always willing to fool themselves to avoid the truth. The five of them began walking together. “But one must be sure with the Unicorn on the loose.”

     John's brow furrowed in confusion. “I'm sorry, did you say there's a unicorn on the loose?” He glanced uncertainly at the Doctor, as if asking if this was something to be expected with time travel.

     “ _The_ Unicorn,” Lady Edison corrected. “The jewel thief.” Sherlock looked up, bored expression suddenly sharpened with interest. “And nobody knows who he is. He's just struck again, snatched Lady Babbington's pearls right from under her nose.” The footman returned, handing the four of them their drinks before walking off towards Lestrade and Molly.

     “Funny place to wear pearls,” Donna commented in a low voice as she took a sip of her drink. The Doctor raised his brows in agreement, and she earned a small amused smirk from John.

     A few moments later, the butler returned, this time accompanied by two men, an older one in a wheelchair, and a young, handsome one pushing the chair. Molly and Lestrade made their way back over to the group as the butler told them, “May I announce, the Colonel Hugh Curbishley, the Honourable Roger Curbishley.”

     Lady Edison smiled warmly, explaining to the newcomers, “My husband. And my son.”

     “Forgive me for not rising,” Hugh Curbishley apologized in a hearty tone. “Never been the same ever since that flu epidemic back in '18.”

     The Doctor nodded graciously, but Sherlock glanced over the colonel, eyes narrowed. “I'm sure,” he said curtly, something like sharp interest in his eyes.

     Before the Time Lord could ask what Sherlock was talking about, the younger man, Roger, approached them. He gave Donna an appreciative glance. “My word, you are a super lady. You and your friend.” His gaze slid to Molly, who rolled her eyes but didn't argue with the compliment.

     Donna, on the other hand grinned winningly at him, reaching out to shake his hand. “Oh, I like the cut of your jib,” she said playfully. “Chin chin.”

     The Doctor reached forward, shaking Roger's hand firmly. “Hello, I'm the Doctor. This is Mr. Holmes, Mr. Watson, Mr. Lestrade, and Miss Hooper.”

     John, Lestrade, and Molly all shook Roger's hand, but Sherlock was too distracted, still staring at the older Curbishley with a narrowed gaze. Roger didn't seem too bothered. “How do you do?” he asked.

     “Very well, thanks,” Lestrade answered.

     The footman returned again, holding a drink out to Roger. “Your usual, sir?” he asked primly.

     Roger took the drink, smiling gratefully at the footman. “Ah, thank you Davenport. Just how I like it.” Their gazes lingered on each other before cutting away quickly.

     Under her breath, so only the Doctor could hear, Donna asked, “How come she's an Eddison but her husband and son are Curbishleys?”

     “The Eddison title descends through her,” the Doctor explained. “One day Roger will be a lord.”

     John's brow raised. “Good for him,” he commented.

     As John spoke, the butler returned with a new quest, a pretty young woman in a red dress and short hair. “Robina Redmond!” the butler announced.

     Lady Eddison smiled appreciatively. As Robina Redmond approached, she turned to the Doctor and his friends and told them, “She's the absolute hit of the social scene, a must.” When the woman reached them, Lady Eddison greeted her warmly. “Miss Redmond.”

     Miss Redmond grinned, voice bright and confident as she said, “Spiffing to meet you at last, my lady. What super fun!”

     The butler returned with the priest they had seen earlier. “Reverend Arnold Golightly,” he introduced.

     Lady Eddison shook his hand, leading him towards her husband as she greeted, “Ah, Reverend. How are you? I heard about the church last Thursday night. Those ruffians breaking in.”

     “You apprehended them, I hear,” the colonel added.

     The reverend lowered his head humbly. “As the Christian Fathers taught me, we must forgive them their trespasses. Quite literally,” he added as a second thought.

     Roger narrowed his eyes, commenting, “Some of these young boys deserve a descent thrashing.”

     The footman, Davenport, gave Roger a meaningful look as he said, “Couldn't agree more, sir.” The two men shared a brief glance before Roger looked away with a sharp cough. The Doctor looked sharply at Sherlock, making sure he wasn't going to have a repeat of his meeting with Molly's boyfriend. Calling out someone's boyfriend for being gay was one thing in the 21st Century, but in the 1920's, it could have far graver consequences, for Roger and for Davenport. And Sherlock didn't tend to think before blurting out his deductions. But for once, Sherlock seemed to be content in his silence.

     Donna, however, said in a low voice, “Typical. All the decent men are on the other bus.”

     “Or Time Lords,” the Doctor protested.

     Molly laughed quietly. “Like Donna would ever consider dating you,” she pointed out to the Doctor, not unkindly.

     After turning away from Davenport, Roger went on to ask his mother, “Now, my lady, what about this special guest you promised us?”

     No sooner had Roger spoken than a new lady came walking down the path, a somewhat older woman with a blue dress and wavy blond hair. Lady Eddison gestured to her, smiling widely. “Here she is, a lady who needs no introduction!” The rest of the party began clapping in appreciation, even as the new woman looked embarrassed.

     “No, no, please,” she protested, smiling with embarrassment. “Don’t. Thank you, Lady Eddison. Honestly, there’s no need.” Spying new faces, the woman approached the Doctor, holding out a hand to him. “Agatha Christie,” she stated.

     The travelers blinked at her. “What about her?” Lestrade asked.

     The woman looked at them in surprise. “That's me,” she explained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, yep, the canon episode I was referring to was The Unicorn and the Wasp. Boy, it's been a while since we've had one of these, huh? It feels weird to be rewriting a canon episode again. It's a totally different process than writing original episodes And this time, I was trying to be a lot more accurate to the episode than I've been in the past, particularly in the movements of the characters.
> 
> Alright, so, I'm going to try and change this one more than I have in the past. The outcome will most likely be the same, but I'm going to have to fit in four extra characters, so I'll try to give them all their fair amount of screentime.
> 
> And yes, I brought back Sherlock and brought along John for the trip. A couple people suggested it, and it fit in with the story I'm trying to tell, so I figured why not? It'll be fun to have a detective and a detective inspector along for the ride on this one.
> 
> As for the outfits I have the characters in:
> 
> Molly is wearing an orange version of the dress on the left dress: http://thewaywewore.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Screen-Shot-2012-09-17-at-3.01.13-PM.png
> 
> Molly's hair is pushed back like this, only with a big orange flower on the clip: http://www.cosmopolitan.co.uk/cm/cosmopolitanuk/images/Oc/10-290513-1920s-hairstyles-kirsten-dunst-mdn.jpg
> 
> Lestrade is dressed like this because he is a dork: http://cf.ltkcdn.net/mens-fashion/images/std/148768-284x425-20style2.jpg


	53. The Unicorn and the Wasp: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The travelers are introduced to Agatha Christie.

     The travelers gaped at the woman in front of them. Agatha Christie. _The_ Agatha Christie. The most famous mystery writer ever. Creator of such famous characters as Poirot and Miss Marple. Poirot, the quintessential detective. Donna couldn't believe it. She couldn't keep the idiotic grin from creeping onto her face, and a glance at the Doctor showed he wore a very similar expression. So did most of the others. Except, of course, Sherlock, but that was basically expected at this point.

     The Doctor reached out to shake her hand vigorously, grinning all the while. “Agatha Christie! I was just talking about you the other day. I said, 'I bet she’s brilliant.'” Agatha shook the Doctor's hand, regarding his enthusiastic introduction with a slightly wary expression. “I’m the Doctor, and these are my friends. Ohhh, I love your stuff. What a mind! You fool me every time. _Well_ , almost every time. _Well_ , once or twice. _Well_ , once. But it was a good once!”

     Lestrade rolled his eyes as he glanced back at the Doctor. “Honestly, you're as bad as Sherlock sometimes,” he admonished. Ignoring the Doctor's insulted expression, he turned to Agatha, shaking her hand much less enthusiastically than the Time Lord. “Greg Lestrade, Mrs. Christie. And this is Molly Hooper. I'm a big fan of your books.”

     Agatha looked a bit more comfortable with the more reserved greeting of the detective inspector. “Thank you, Mr. Lestrade, Ms. Hooper.”

     “Who's Agatha Christie?” The question, of course, came from Sherlock, who was staring at the writer with an almost bored expression. Donna could see the minute movements of the eyes, the way he was measuring up the writer even as he tried to cover his interest, but it was still rude.

     “Wait, who's Agatha Christie?” Donna repeated with disbelief. “How can you not know who she is? She's only the greatest mystery writer ever!”

     The little interest in Sherlock's expression evaporated. “Oh. No one important then.” That earned him a glare from everyone, and a puzzled look from Agatha, who was regarding the conversation in front of her with silent confusion.

     “Sherlock!” John, Molly, and Lestrade hissed in warning. The Doctor and Donna settled for glaring in silence.

     Agatha spoke up quietly, regarding Sherlock with a curious, sharply intelligent gaze. “I'm sorry, I don't know if I caught your name, Mr...?”

     Sherlock looked for a moment like he wasn't going to answer, but the glares from his friends finally convinced him. “Holmes,” he said shortly. “Sherlock Holmes.”

     The writer's eyes flashed with interest. “Sherlock Holmes, eh? Hmm. Not a bad name for a detective. I wonder if I shouldn't name a character after you.”

     The detective just rolled his eyes in response, glancing away, his interest clearly lost. The others cleared their throats and looked away awkwardly, embarrassed by Sherlock's rudeness. Agatha glanced between them curiously before giving a little cough. “Well. If you'll excuse me.” By that point, Lady Eddison had come their way. The hostess put an arm around Agatha Christie's shoulders and began to lead her away.

     “Mrs. Christie,” she said graciously, “I’m so glad you could come. I’m one of your greatest followers. I’ve read all six of your books. Is, ah, Mr Christie not joining us?”

     Agatha stiffened at the mention of her husband, but her easy demeanor returned quickly. “Is he needed? Can’t a woman make her own way in the world?”

     “Don’t give my wife ideas,” the colonel joked. The tension was broken, and Agatha was smiling again like nothing had happened.

     As people began to ask her questions, the Doctor walked off to inquire about a newspaper. Sherlock's attention was on Agatha once more, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Her husband's been having an affair,” he announced abruptly, though thankfully in a low enough voice that only the travelers heard him. “And she just found out.”

     Donna blinked in surprise. “Really?” she asked, at the same time that Molly asked, “How can you tell?”

     “The make-up,” Sherlock explained. “She's covered it well, but there's still traces of red around the eyes. She's been crying a lot recently. Add that to the hesitation when Lady Eddison mentioned her husband, and it's pretty obvious to figure out what happened.”

     Molly let out a low _hum_ of agreement, glancing curiously at the writer. Donna wasn't sure where Sherlock had gotten that idea. The writer seemed so happy.

     In front of them, Lady Eddison turned to her maid, ordering, “Miss Chandrakala, would you go and collect the professor?”

     The maid bowed her head. “At once, milady.” She turned and hurried off, back toward the house. And all the while, Agatha Christie kept smiling and joking, mingling without a hint of the ordeal she had gone through.

     “You'd never think to look at her,” Donna commented. “Smiling away.”

     “Well, she’s British and moneyed,” the Doctor said. He had returned with a newspaper in hand, glancing over at Agatha with the rest of them. “That’s what they do. They carry on.” The Time Lord pulled out the paper, showing his companions the front page. “The date on this newspaper.”

     “What about it?” John asked.

     The Doctor glanced back at the army doctor, his expression unreadable. “It’s the day Agatha Christie disappeared.”

     Molly looked at the writer in surprise. “Disappeared? What do you mean? Does someone take her?” Sherlock looked up, looking properly interested for the first time since they'd gotten there.

     The Doctor shook his head. “No one knows for sure. She just vanishes. Her car will be found tomorrow morning by the side of a lake. Ten days later, Agatha Christie turns up in a hotel in Harrogate. Said she'd lost her memory. She never spoke about the disappearance till the day she died, but whatever it was…”

     “It's about to happen.” Donna finished.

     “Right here, right now,” the Doctor agreed grimly.

     Before Donna could get her head around that, the maid came running out of the house, waving her arms wildly and shouting, “Professor! The library! Murder! Murder!”

     The travelers glanced at each other in surprise. Sherlock grinned, remarking, “This party is finally starting to get interesting,” before they all took off at a run towards the house.

     Despite herself, Donna couldn't help but agree with him.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly followed the Doctor and the others into the library, keeping pace easily. She was surprised to notice Agatha Christie following them, but she didn't question it. When they got inside, they found the professor face-first on the floor, blood trickling from a blow to his head. Molly didn't need more than a glance to tell her that he was dead. She and John hurried to the man's side, crouching down to examine the body. They paid no mind to the butler entering the room, nor the Doctor as he crouched beside the professor's hand.

     “Cause of death was blunt force trauma,” Molly concluded, examining the wound on the professor's head.

     “Got hit with something pretty heavy,” John agreed.

     Donna was crouched beside the body. She pointed to an object lying by the professor's head. “Bit of pipe. Call me Hercule Poirot, but I reckon that’s blunt enough.” After glancing over the piping, Molly nodded in consent.

     The Doctor slipped on his glasses, gazing at the professor's wrist. “Watch broke as he fell,” he said, tapping the face of the watch to emphasize his point, “time of death was quarter past four.”

     Molly examined the pipe, announcing, “There's blood here. It's definitely the murder weapon.”

     As she looked over the body, Molly noticed Agatha crouching by the fire, picking something up out of the ashes. She couldn't tell what the writer had picked up from her angle, but she couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity.

     Sherlock was examining the desk, searching quickly through the papers. “The killer must have been looking for something, but nothing here has been disturbed recently,” he reported.

     Greg was checking the door, examining the lock. “No signs of a forced entry. Then again, not much point in locking a library.”

     Her task done, Donna approached the Doctor, asking in a low voice, “Hold on. The body in the library? I mean, Professor Peach, in the library, with the lead piping?”

     “Remind me not to suggest Cluedo at our next game night,” Greg joked.

     People began pouring into the library, gasping and exclaiming as they saw the body of the professor.

     “Let me see!”

     “Out of my way!”

     “Saints preserve us!”

     “Oh how awful!”

     Agatha stood from her chair, declaring, “Someone should call the police.”

     Before anyone could move to do so, the Doctor assured them, “You don’t have to.” He pulled out his psychic paper, flashing it briefly for the others to see. “Chief Inspector Smith from Scotland Yard. Known as the Doctor. Miss Noble here is the plucky young girl who helps me out. This is Dr. John Watson and Dr. Molly Hooper, who consult with Scotland yard, and this is Inspector Lestrade and Inspector Holmes.”

     This was met with mixed surprise and relief from the startled crowd. “I say,” Lady Eddison muttered.

     “Mrs Christie was right,” the Doctor said firmly. “Go into the sitting room. We will question each of you in turn.”

     Everyone hesitated. Agatha prompted them, “Come along, do as the Doctor says. Leave the room undisturbed.” They seemed reluctant to leave the grisly sight, but one by one they filed out of the library, leaving only the Doctor and his companions.

     Once the others were gone, Donna whirled on the Doctor, voice sharp as she demanded, “'The plucky young girl who helps me out'?”

     The Doctor grabbed a scalpel from the desk and lowered himself flat to the ground, checking under the table. Sherlock was walking slowly along the fireplace, his sharp gaze darting around for clues. “No policewomen in 1926,” he apologized.

     “Oh what, and she gets to be a doctor?” Donna demanded, nodding to Molly, who was still checking the professor's body.

     “Sorry, women doctors were a thing by now,” the Doctor apologized again. “But at least you're plucky.”

     “I’ll pluck you in a minute,” the ginger woman retorted. “Why don’t we phone the real police?”

     “Well the last thing we want is PC Plod sticking his nose in. No offense,” he added to Greg, the only real police inspector in the room.

     “No offense taken, you're just insulting my entire profession,” Greg noted cheerfully. Molly knew her boyfriend wasn't really that annoyed by the Doctor's comment, he was just playing it up.

     The Doctor froze, reaching forward and scraping a bit of some weird goo off the floor. “Especially now I’ve found this!” He hopped to his feet. Sherlock was at his side in an instant, sharp gaze fixed on the goo hanging from the scalpel. “Morphic residue.”

     The rest of the companions made their way over, crowding around him to see the residue. “Can't say I've ever found anything like that at a crime scene before,” Greg commented.

     “I'm not surprised,” the Doctor replied. “It’s left behind when certain species genetically re-encode.”

     “So the killer's an alien,” Sherlock concluded. The boredom and annoyance from earlier were entirely gone. Now his eyes were lit up with the fierce light he always had when he was on a case.

     “Which means, one of that lot is an alien in human form,” the Doctor finished grimly.

     Donna didn't seem ready to accept the weird situation yet. “Yeah, but think about it. There’s a murder, a mystery, and Agatha Christie.”

     “So?” the Doctor asked. He gave the morphic residue a quick sniff, offering it to Donna, who reluctantly sniffed it. When she was done, Sherlock snatched it toward him, studying it quickly. “Happens to me all the time.”

     “No, but isn’t that a bit weird?” Donna pressed. “Agatha Christie didn’t walk around surrounded by murders. Not really. I mean that’s like meeting Charles Dickens, and he’s surrounded by ghosts. At Christmas.”

     Molly actually laughed at that, earning a few weird looks from the others. “Wasn't that one of your first trips with Rose, Doctor?” she asked. He had told her that story once, pretty off-hand, back when she was first traveling with him and he was a bit chattier about Rose.

     The Time Lord's eyes darkened at the memory of the woman he lost, before he shook his head to clear away the thought. “Our second trip, actually.” He was getting a bit better about sharing personal details and not just waving off any question that went near a painful subject. Probably felt bad about not talking about himself when Molly had worked so hard to tell the Doctor how she felt about the Year.

     Donna stared at the Doctor incredulously. “What, seriously? Your life is completely bonkers!”

     The Doctor turned to Donna, having finished his examination of the morphic residue. “Oh yes!” He started out of the room, his companions following.

     As they started towards the stairs, Donna continued, “Next thing you know, you'll be telling me it's like Murder On The Orient Express, and they all did it!”

     They passed by Agatha Christie as they walked towards the stairs, and she began to follow them. “Murder on the Orient Express?” she inquired.

     Donna and the others stopped to face her. “Oh, yeah. One of your best!” she said with a grin.

     “But not yet,” the Doctor warned quietly.

     “Marvelous idea though,” Agatha mused, glancing between Donna and the Doctor with a thoughtful expression.

     “Yeah,” Donna said slowly. “Tell you what, copyright Donna Noble, okay?”

     Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Oh good lord.”

     Molly gave him a sharp look clearly telling him to shut it, then turned to the Doctor. “So, are we doing interrogations then?”

     “Yeah. Think you, Sherlock, and Lestrade could cover that?” the Time Lord asked.

     Molly glanced back at both members of her Hooper Army, then looked back at the Doctor with a grin. “We're on it,” she told him.

     The Doctor grinned back. “Good.”

     Agatha frowned. “Hold on. A doctor is going to perform interrogations?”

     “I've worked with Sherlock and Lestrade in the past,” Molly explained. Well, it wasn't a total lie.

     “Right. The rest of you should look for clues,” the Doctor said, adding in a low voice, “Any more of that residue. John, check the kitchen. Ask around and see what everyone there is thinking. Agatha and I will search the library, make sure there isn't anything we missed.”

     “Actually, Doctor, if it's alright with you,” the writer objected quietly, “I'd like to sit in on the interrogations. I might be able to glean something from what our suspects have to say.”

     The Time Lord nodded. “Of course. I'll cover the library then. Alright, Donna, you'll need this.” He pulled out an almost cartoonishly large magnifying glass and handed it to his ginger companion.

     She gave him an unamused glare. “Is that for real?” she asked.

     “Go on,” the Doctor prompted with a smirk. “You're ever so plucky.”

     Giving him a final glare, Donna turned and started to head up the stairs. John left too, heading towards the kitchen. The Doctor gave Molly and the others a nod before turning and walking back into the library. Molly turned to her charges, glancing over each of them as she starting planning the interrogations in her head. “Right then. Come on, let's get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Curious about why Donna says Agatha Christie is the best mystery writer of all time, and why Poirot is the quintessential detective? It's quite simple. **There's no Sherlock Holmes series in this world.** Arthur Conan Doyle never wrote the Sherlock Holmes series. Subsequently, Agatha Christie is known as the best mystery writer of all time, and her Poirot takes the place of Sherlock Holmes as the most famous fictional detective of all time. It seemed fitting to address in this episode.
> 
> I've actually never read any of Agatha Christie's books before, so I decided to do so as research for this story, and also because I have an insane amount of time on my hands this week due to the events I spoke of last chapter. I read "Murder on the Orient Express," and I loved it! I've also bought a few books featuring Miss Marple, so I'll read those then as well.
> 
> And you have no idea how difficult it is rewriting an episode for two characters and adding in four extra characters that have to have their own fair amount of screentime. I think I've got a good plan worked out of how I want this to work, however. It might be a bit long due to that, but I can't really cut it down without cutting someone's screentime. I think it'll work quite nicely in the end, however.
> 
> And sorry for such a short chapter, but I thought this was a really good cutting-off point.


	54. The Unicorn and the Wasp: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly, Sherlock, Lestrade, and Agatha get started on interrogations while John and the Doctor search for evidence.

     The first person they pulled into the study to interrogate was the Reverend. It was the first time Molly, Sherlock, and Greg had worked together since the Year. The three of them fell into the familiar patterns, knowing just how to play off of each other to get the information they wanted. They'd had to question people during the Year, spies of the Master, people who had information they needed, people they needed to make sure wouldn't give away too much to the Master.

     Sherlock was the most observant from the bunch, but he was used to getting his information from his surroundings, not usually through talking or straight-up interrogation. His job was to stand back and observe, cutting in when he thought there was something important Greg and Molly were missing.

     Greg was the best of them at interrogation. As a detective inspector, he was the one with the most experience at interviewing suspects, though he'd taught Molly a lot over the Year.

     Molly always began interrogations, since she was in charge and her name tended to command the most respect, but she tended to let Lestrade control the flow of the interrogation. She played the hard-faced, stern one that asked the hard questions, while Greg was a bit gentler and reassuring.

     As they faced the Reverend, who was sitting on an armchair in front of them, Molly began the questioning. “So, Reverend, what's your full name?” Agatha was in the back of the room as well, watching quietly, her sharp gaze darting over the interrogation. Molly had a feeling she was taking in every detail.

     “Reverend Arnold Golightly,” he answered. The man seemed calm enough, just a bit ruffled about having seen the professor dead. That didn't mean Molly was ruling him out, however.

     “Reverend, what was your relationship with the professor?” she prompted. Sherlock walked slowly behind her, head down and hands clasped behind him. To all appearances, he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to the conversation in front of him. But Molly knew better.

     The Reverend's expression grew somber. “The professor was always generous to the church. I saw him every Sunday. He was a good friend.”

     Molly nodded once to herself, then fell silent as Greg took up the questioning. “And what brings you to the party today, Reverend?” His voice was softer than Molly's, a friendly cheer to it.

     “Lady Eddison invited me,” he said simply. “A man of god can't have a bit of fun once in a while?” His tone was mild, but his expression told Molly he knew they suspected him. He wasn't panicking, though, which was a good sign. Molly glanced discreetly at Sherlock, who gave her the faintest of nods, telling her he thought the Reverend was telling the truth.

     And now they got to the question they really wanted to ask. “Sorry to have to ask you this, but where were you at a quarter past four?” Greg asked in an easy tone.

     The Reverend leaned back. “Let me think. Oh yes, I remember. I was unpacking in my room.”

     Agatha spoke up for the first time. “You were alone?”

     The Reverend inclined his head, smiling quietly. “With the Lord, one is never truly alone,” he said lightly. Molly and Greg exchanged a glance. All three of them were thinking the same thing; no alibi.

     “Just one more question, Reverend,” Molly said in a sharp tone. Her expression was hard, not accusing, but not sympathetic either. “Would you have any reason to kill the Professor.”

     The Reverend shook his head firmly. “He was my friend,” he repeated. “I would never kill him, or anyone. I am a man of God.”

     Molly looked at him with the same hard expression. “The same can't be said of all men of God, Reverend,” she said gravely. Greg gave her a sharp glance, but said nothing.

     After their questions were done, they sent the Reverend on his way. As they waited for their next suspect, Agatha glanced between the three of them curiously. “You're right. You have done this before,” she observed quietly, her gaze sharp with interest as she looked between them.

     Molly nodded. “For about a Year,” she said, glancing meaningfully at her companions. After a moment, she turned to the door. “Send in the next one.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Doctor made his way back into the library. The professor was still there, face-down and motionless. He ignored him, for the present, and turned to the desk instead. Before, Sherlock had leafed very quickly through the papers and books there. He wanted to take a closer look and see if there was anything there the detective had missed.

     He sat in one of the chairs, going carefully through everything on the desk. There had to be something in here that would help.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Next to be interrogated was Lady Eddison's son, Roger. Lestrade didn't really see the posh young man in front of him resorting to whacking a man on the back of the head with a pipe, but he wasn't ruling it out either.

     He and Molly exchanged a glance. Perhaps intimidating a future Lord wasn't going to work very well. He would get angry in response, not more compliant. Better to be friendly, at least at first. If they found something to hold against them, then they could get tough.

     “So, Roger, terrible business this,” Lestrade began.

     “Dreadful,” the young man agreed quickly. He was nervous, and shaken, but not guilty. That was good.

     “How well did you know the professor?” the detective inspector asked in a carefully curious tone.

     “He's a good friend of my mother's,” Roger answered. “I've known him since I could walk. He was a good chap. I've no idea why anyone would want to kill him.”

     Molly gave him a discreet glance, which he threw to Sherlock. All three agreed he seemed truthful, but he definitely seemed nervous about something. Lestrade gave Molly a tiny nod, telling her it was alright for her to press the issue. Maybe they'd get him to reveal something.

     “Roger, where were you at a quarter past four?” she asked, not in the hard tone she had asked the Reverend, but still firmly.

     The man gulped, gaze darting nervously between the four of them. “Let me think... I was, um... Oh, yes, I was taking a constitutional, in the fields behind the house. Just taking a stroll, that's all.”

     “Alone?” Sherlock pressed.

     “Oh, yes, all alone,” Roger answered too quickly. “Totally alone! Absolutely alone. Completely, all of the time. I wandered lonely as the proverbial cloud, there was no-one else with me, not at all. Not ever!”

     Oh. That's what he was nervous about. Lestrade and Molly instantly relaxed, the tension they had been trying to build dissipating. The detective inspector gave Sherlock a hard glance, silently warning him against saying the obvious and outing Roger. 1926 really wasn't the safest time for that. Thankfully, the detective was far more tactful than he'd been in the past, after a Year of Molly and Lestrade smacking him over the head about it. He said nothing, and neither did Agatha, who was regarding the whole thing with silent curiosity.

     “Just one more question, Roger,” Lestrade said, taking over again. “Do you know what the professor was researching in the library?” A nicer way of asking why anyone would want to kill him, and Roger had already said he had no idea why anyone would kill the professor.

     Roger shook his head. “No idea, sorry.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     John made his way into the kitchen, where people were bustling about, cleaning up from the garden party and preparing for the dinner that was still ahead. They were talking before he came in, but when he entered, the voices died away as they stared uncertainly at him.

     The doctor cleared his throat. “Um. Hi. I'm with the police. I was just wondering if I could poke around a bit, maybe ask a few questions?”

     The servants exchanged glances, no one speaking for a few moments. Finally, Miss Chandrakala said briskly, “Yes, fine, but please don't get in the way of the work. There's a supper to be made.”

     John nodded. “Of course. Thank you.” He began moving around the kitchen, looking around at the various servants, and keeping an eye out for any more of the residue the Doctor had found. At first, they seemed uncomfortable with having a police officer there, but after a while, they seemed to forget he was there. Talk resumed, and that's when he figured he'd be safe to start asking questions.

     “So,” he asked the footman, Davenport he believed, “What was the professor really like? Was there anyone who didn't like him?”

     Davenport shook his head. “He was a nice guy. Seemed harmless enough. I don't know why anyone would want him dead.”

     “It's a tragedy, to be sure,” Miss Chandrakala said stiffly. “But we can't let it distract us. The dead are dead.” With that, she began bustling around the kitchen, making sure everything was in order.

     John sighed. He had a feeling he wasn't going to find out much here, not with Miss Chandrakala being so tight-lipped. The doctor only hoped Sherlock and the others were having more luck.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Sherlock hung back as they brought the next suspect in. Miss Redmond was sitting a bit forward in her chair, staring up at them with calm curiosity. Perhaps a little too calm.

     “Miss Redmond,” Molly began. Her tone was firm, but not hard. She was being somewhat friendly up-front. “What brings you to the party today?”

     She shrugged, looking unconcerned. “Lady Eddison reached out to me. We share some mutual friends. I'd always wanted to meet her, and I've heard such lovely things about the estate.”

     This woman was the only stranger in the bunch. The only one that the rest of the suspects didn't already know. This made her of interest to Sherlock, along with her behavior. Something about her just seemed off. The outfit, the accent, the way she held herself, there were little hints, but he wasn't sure where they led.

     “You're from New York, correct?” Lestrade pressed.

     Miss Redmond nodded. “Yes.”

     Molly raised an eyebrow. “A bit far to come for a party, isn't it?”

     The woman just smiled. “Well, this isn't my only business in England.”

     “And where were you at a quarter past four?” Molly asked.

     “At a quarter past four?” she repeated. “Well, I went to the toilet when I arrived, and then um... Oh, yes, I remember. I was preparing myself, positively buzzing with excitement about the party... and the super fun of meeting Lady Eddy.”

     Sherlock paused in his pacing, his head snapping up at the woman's words. _There it is._ “Could you repeat that, Miss Redmond?” he asked. Agatha looked up as well, but he paid her no mind.

     Miss Redmond looked a bit confused, but she did as requested. “I went to the toilet, then I got ready for the party. Is there a problem?”

     The consulting detective worked to hide the small thrill of triumph at having figured it out. “No problem at all.” Molly gave him a questioning glance, but he gave a minute shake of the head. She was a liar, but she wasn't the one they were looking for.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Doctor sighed, pushing back away from the desk. There was absolutely nothing in this pile that any killer would care about, as far as he could see. No, whatever the killer had been after, more than likely, had been lost to the fireplace. He'd seen Agatha picking up a bit of paper from the ashes. That was probably their best clue as to what the killer wanted, and why the professor was dead.

     For now, he'd settle for searching the professor to see if maybe he had any of his research on him, then he'd look around for any more of the residue.

**SCENEBREAK**

     “Nice place you've got here, Colonel,” Greg commented lightly, glancing around the interior of the study.

     “Why thanks,” Hugh said, looking friendly enough, but shaken by the sight of the dead man.

     Molly took over again, staring down the colonel as she asked, “Now, would you mind telling us your relationship with the deceased?” This was the sort of man to talk plainly with. Somehow, she doubted a man in a wheelchair would be capable of bashing a man's head in with a heavy pipe, but appearances could be deceiving. A cripple would be the perfect disguise for an alien trying to get away with murder.

     “The professor is an old friend of my wife's,” he explained. “Er. Was. He wasn't one for parties all that much. Kept to himself, mostly, himself and his books. Took some convincing just to get him to show up today.” He frowned. “In hindsight, though, I wish we hadn't. If he'd stayed home he might still be alive.”

     “There's no way of knowing,” was all Greg said. “Now, Colonel, where were you at a quarter past four?”

     Hugh leaned back thoughtfully in his chair. Quarter past four? Dear me, let me think... Ah, yes, I remember. I was in my study, reading through some military memoirs. Fascinating stuff. Took me back to my days in the army. Started reminiscing...” His eyes took on a distant glint. “Mafeking, you know... Terrible war.”

     “Er, thank you, that's enough,” Greg cut him off. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to see what he was actually thinking about.

     The colonel blinked in surprise, as though he had forgotten the others were there. “Oh, sorry. Got a bit carried away there,” he sniffed.

     “Just one more question, Colonel,” Molly said firmly. She didn't need him slipping off into his “war memories” again. “Do you know why anyone would want to kill the professor?”

     Hugh shook his friend firmly. “He was a bit reclusive, but he was a good man,” he said clearly. “I can't make head or tail of why anyone would want him dead.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     “I'm telling you, Mr. Watson, I've no idea why anyone would want to murder him!” Miss Chandrakala told the doctor firmly. “And I don't see why you need to interrupt our work by asking us.”

     John stifled a sigh. He'd been trying to get Miss Chandrakala's permission to take each of the servants aside and interview them individually, but she wasn't being terribly cooperative. “I'm just looking for any information that might help our investigation,” he said.

     “Well, none of us can help you,” Miss Chandrakala said briskly. “And there's work to be done.” She started to turn away, but John called after her.

     “Miss Chandrakala, please. One person's already dead.” She paused. “I'm trying to make sure that we don't lose anyone else.”

     There was a moment of silence. Then Miss Chandrakala sighed, and turned to face him again. “Make it quick,” she snapped.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Their last interview was with Lady Eddison. The woman herself seemed very shaken, her fingers playing with the fabric of the chair's arm and her expression vulnerable. Lestrade could tell that she would crack under pressure, if they chose to apply it. They would wait until they were given a reason to, however.

     Molly began. “Lady Eddison, was there a particular reason for having the party today?” As the one who had invited the professor here, she was definitely under suspicion.

     The woman looked a bit startled at the question. “N-no, not in particular,” she said meekly. “It was the date that worked best, that was all.”

     “The professor was a friend of yours, wasn't he?” Lestrade asked gently. “How long did you know him?”

     “Since I was a girl,” she answered. “Our families were quite close.”

     Lestrade's voice was soft as he asked, “And where were you at a quarter past four?”

     She took in a shaky breath. “Now let me see... Yes, I remember. I was sitting in the Blue Room, taking my afternoon tea.” There was a slight hesitation on the word _tea_. A glance at Sherlock confirmed that she most certainly had been drinking something stronger. “It's a ritual of mine, I needed to gather strength for the duty of hostess. I then proceeded to the lawn where I met you three. And I said, "And who exactly –”

     “It's alright, we were there for that bit,” Molly reminded her.

     “Just one more question, Lady Eddison,” Lestrade said. He had seen nothing so far that made him think she had murdered her old friend. “Do you have any idea what the professor was reading in the library earlier today?”

     Lady Eddison shook her head. “No, I'm sorry.” Before Lestrade could properly feel disappointment, the woman paused and added, “But he had been researching something recently. Something important. He was spending all his time on it. I don't know what it was, however. I'm sorry.”

     After silently consulting Molly and Sherlock, Lestrade nodded. “It's alright.” He believed her.

     They sent Lady Eddison on her way, then turned to each other. “Alright, we've interviewed all our suspects,” Molly said. “Let's talk about what we know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to show more of the dynamic between Molly, Lestrade, and Sherlock here. I also wanted to give everyone a bit more screentime, so there's some extra scenes and extra lines, as always.
> 
> Yeah. Really don't have a whole lot more to say here.


	55. The Unicorn and the Wasp: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna investigates, and the Hooper Army discusses.

     Donna checked all the rooms on the upper levels. It took a while to check every corner of every room, and so far, she hadn't found any more traces of residue, even with the help of the frankly ridiculous magnifying glass.

     To her surprise, the next door she tried was locked shut. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. How come this one was locked, but none of the others were. She bent over to inspect the door lever, shaking it and trying to force the door open.

     She didn't realize the butler Greeves was behind her until he spoke. “You won't find anything in there.” The ginger companion let out a startled cry as she whirled to face him. He was giving her an almost stern look, as though warning her away from the door.

     Donna worked to regain her composure after being startled. “How come it's locked?” she demanded in a somewhat shaky tone.

     “Lady Eddison commands it to be so,” Greeves informed her in a stiff tone.

     Donna narrowed her eyes. In a tone sharp with authority, she said, “And I command it to be otherwise.” When Greeves looked surprised at her boldness, she reminded him, “Scotland Yard, pip-pip.”

     Greeves hesitated, then moved reluctantly to unlock the door. As he worked to open it, Donna asked, “Why's it locked in the first place?”

     “Many years ago, when my father was butler to the family, Lady Eddison returned from India with malaria,” Greeves explained. “She locked herself in this room for six months until she recovered. Since then, the room has remained undisturbed.”

     Donna couldn't help but feel a chill as the door swung open and she stepped inside. The bedroom was dark and gloomy, every surface covered in cobwebs and dust. There was something ominous about it, but also something sad. Like the room had seen a loss of some kind.

     “There's nothing in here,” Greeves said quietly behind her.

     The ginger companion looked around the room, trying to suppress a shiver. “How long's it been empty?”

     “Forty years.”

     “Why would she seal it off?” the companion asked herself quietly. She wasn't sure why the room had been locked up, but it was mysterious and suspicious, and that was enough reason for her to try and investigate. Donna gave a decisive nod. “All right, I need to investigate, you just... buttle off.” Greeves nodded, and began to walk away. Donna closed the door behind him, then turned back to look at the room.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Agatha sighed. “No alibis for any of them,” she pointed out with frustration. “The secret adversary remains hidden.” She began to pace, tone thoughtful. “We must look for a motive, use 'the little grey cells.'”

     Lestrade led out an amused chuckle. “The little gray cells,” he repeated fondly. “Ah, Poirot. If only we had the famous Belgian detective around right about now.” He glanced sideways at Sherlock and joked, “I guess you'll have to do.” The detective just rolled his eyes in response.

     They had been going over the interrogations for several minutes now, repeating what their suspects had said and what light it could shed on their investigation. So far, they hadn't come up with much.

     “It has to have something to do with his research,” Molly said again. Lestrade could hear a note of frustration creep into her tone. “He was getting close to finding something out, something that someone wanted to keep hidden, and that's why he was killed.”

     "That's one possibility, and probably the most likely at this point," Sherlock said in a clipped tone. He was in full detective mode now, laying out all the possibilities in front of him and trying them out one by one. "If that's the case, he was probably very close to discovering something the killer wanted hidden. I'd say it's safe to assume that's what the professor was reading in the library when he was killed."

     "But if that were true, then we would've found his research in the library," Lestrade argued.

     "Think, Greg, think," Sherlock pressed tersely. Lestrade was still shocked that Sherlock had managed to actually learn his first name over the course of the Year. "If the professor truly was killed because of his research, then the killer wouldn't want it found. Their first move after murdering the professor would be to get rid of it."

     "Do you think they took it with them?" Molly questioned.

     "It's possible, but not probable. If they were willing to murder to keep this information from being seen, they wouldn't want to risk it being found in their possessions during the investigation. No, it's more likely the destroyed the research somehow."

     "Very clever, Inspector Holmes," Agatha said. She paused from her pacing, facing the consulting detective with interest. “But you know, for such an experienced detective, you missed a big clue.”

     Sherlock glared at the writer with irritation, but Molly didn't seem surprised by the author's words. “Are you talking about whatever it was you picked up from the ashes?”

     Agatha smiled. “Impressive, Dr. Hooper.” She pulled a small bit of paper out of her pocket, the four others crowding around her so they could see it. “I saw the fireplace and figured it was the most likely place for the killer to have disposed of any evidence. This is all I could find.”

     Sherlock glanced at Agatha. “That was... smart,” he admitted grudgingly.

     The writer smirked softly. “Not just a useless writer, then?” she asked pointedly. Sherlock didn't bother to answer, but Lestrade could tell he was impressed despite himself.

     The little piece of paper was burnt around the edges, and one of the letters was smudged. What was visible read “-aiden.” Lestrade narrowed his eyes. “Is that an N or an M there?”

     “M,” Sherlock and Agatha answered at the same time. They glanced at each other, then turned back to the paper. “It's Maiden,” Sherlock continued.

     “What's that supposed to mean?” Molly asked.

     “Using 'maiden' to describe a young woman isn't very common in the 1920's,” Sherlock explained. “I doubt that was the intention here. The most likely connotations are to a maiden voyage, or a maiden name.”

     Molly's eyes narrowed. “It could be a maiden name. But the only married women here are you, Agatha, and Lady Eddison. And Lady Eddison didn't change her name when she married. She still has her maiden name. Why would someone try to hide that?”

     Agatha let out a frustrated _hum_. “We're still no further forward. Our nemesis remains at large. Unless Miss Noble's found something.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     For a moment, all Donna could do was gaze around the room, trying to get past the gloomy feel of it. She crossed slowly over to the bed, gingerly picking up a lone teddy bear that sat at the foot of the bed. As she held it out in front of her, looking into the dusty, smiling face of the toy, she felt that sadness again, more strongly than ever. Donna was certain of it now. Something bad had happened here. Something had been lost.

     As she stared at the teddy bear, she began to hear a soft _buzzing_ from somewhere in the room. She looked up, trying to figure out where it was coming from. “1926, they've still got bees,” she commented as she set the bear back down. Really, the whole thing about the missing bees in 2013 was odd.

     Donna smiled as the buzzing intensified, sounding from somewhere near the window. “Oh, what a noise! All right, busy bee, I'll let you out.” She pulled out the magnifying glass, holding it up as she made her way towards the window. “Hold on, I shall find you with my amazing powers of detection.”

     The companion pulled aside the curtain, expecting to have to hunt to find the tiny bee somewhere by the window. What she saw instead made her lower the magnifying glass in shock and back away slowly. A wasp easily the size of a large dog was staring at her from outside the window, _buzzing_ angrily. “That's impossible,” she breathed. She felt a hard surface against her back as she backed all the way against the far wall.

     The reality of the situation kicked in as the wasp crashed through the window and came straight for her. She circled quickly around it, coming to face it with her back against the window. As it came towards her, she cried out, “Doctor! Molly!”

**SCENEBREAK**

     “You know, there's something I don't understand,” Agatha said at last.

     Lestrade glanced at her. “About the case?” he asked.

     “About you.” The detective inspector blinked in surprise. “You say you're the police. But you don't act like any police officers I've ever met. Well, apart from you, maybe.” She nodded to Lestrade at this part. The detective inspector had to hide a smirk of amusement at that.

     “I can understand asking a doctor to consult as far as examining corpses and wounds, but helping with an interrogation? I would almost say she's in charge of you, not being consulted by you.” Lestrade looked away awkwardly, trying to hide how close she was hitting to the truth, but Molly was looking evenly at her, not giving any emotion away. Agatha regarded her curiously. “You stand like a soldier, waiting for an attack,” she observed quietly.

     “I've been working with the police a long time,” Molly said evenly. “It sort of changes the perspective on life.”

     Agatha raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you'd only been working with these two for a year?” she inquired mildly, a hint of a triumphant smirk on her lips.

     Molly didn't look phased by the writer pointing out her slip-up. “I've been working with these two for a year,” she said calmly. “But I'd been employed by other officers for years before that.”

     “Ah,” was all Agatha said, but Lestrade could tell she wasn't entirely convinced. “Of all this officers you've worked with, I wonder if there is any particular reason you stuck with these ones.” Her gaze flitted between Molly and Lestrade. She was digging, trying to get them to slip and tell her something.

     “Oh, we're dating,” Lestrade informed her cheerfully. Agatha looked surprised that he had revealed it so willingly. “But that's not why we're working together.”

     “Let's just say we got in a bad spot a while back, and I led them out of it,” his girlfriend said simply.

     Agatha looked intrigued, but before she could ask another question, there was a distant shout. “Doctor! Molly!” Lestrade blinked in surprise. _Donna!_

     Molly was at the door in an instant, racing for the stairs where Donna had gone. The rest followed quickly, Agatha keeping pace easily with the companions.

**SCENEBREAK**

     As Donna faced down the wasp, she noticed it trying to stay out of the sunlight streaming in through the window. An idea came to her. She raised the magnifying glass, letting it catch the light. A concentrated beam of light shone from the lens, pointing directly at the wasp. The angry _buzzing_ intensified as it flinched away from the hot light. It began letting out a screech, almost like a scream. While it was wriggling and screeching in pain, Donna took off for the door, screaming, “Doctor!” as she ran.

     She made it through the door and slammed it behind her. A moment after the door shut, a huge stinger punched through the wood. Donna let out a scream of alarm, but the stinger got stuck halfway through the door, then became still.

     Molly, Sherlock, Lestrade, and Agatha Christie rounded the corner, racing towards her. “Are you alright?” Molly demanded, expression sharp with worry.

     It took a few moments for Donna to gasp out, “It's a giant wasp!”

     Lestrade's eyes narrowed. “A what? What do you mean?”

     “I mean, a wasp that's giant!” Donna snapped.

     Agatha was the only one didn't seem very concerned. “It's only a silly little insect,” she said with an amused tone.

     The ginger companion glared at her. In a sharp tone, she told the writer, “When I say giant, I don't mean big, I mean flippin' enormous!” She gestured at the door, her voice wild as she said, “Look at it's sting!”

     Sherlock got on his knees, closely examining the stinger. He reached out to touch it, but a moment after his fingers brushed against the venom, he yanked them back with a sharp intake of breath. “The venom burns to the touch,” he warned the others.

     Molly pushed past Sherlock, opening the door and poking her head inside the room. After a moment, she closed it again. “The wasp is gone,” she said. “But at least we have this.” She gazed curiously at the stinger, crouching down to get a closer look. Lestrade, Donna, and Agatha followed her lead.

     “But that's fascinating,” Agatha breathed. “What is it?”

     Sherlock glanced at her. “I should have thought that would have been apparent,” he said dryly. “It's the stinger of a giant wasp of some kind. Or rather, an alien that has the appearance of a giant wasp.”

     Agatha looked at him with wide eyes. “An alien? Are you completely mad?”

     “Lost its sting though, that makes it defenseless,” Donna pointed out.

     “Maybe,” Molly said, straightening fully. “But I get the feeling we're not that lucky.”

     “Can we return to sanity?” Agatha demanded, starting to sound increasingly worried. “There are no such things as giant wasps!”

     Lestrade got to his feet as well, the rest of the group following suit. “I think it's pretty clear that there are,” he commented. “Now we just have to figure out what it wants, and where it's gone.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     John had interviewed all of the staff, but he still hadn't found out anything terribly helpful. The best he had found out was that the professor had been researching something, and they thought it had something to do with records and documents he'd left sitting out in the library, something from 40 years ago.

     He was back in the kitchen, checking everything over to see if there was any residue he missed. After several moments, he finally admitted defeat. There was nothing more to be found in there. He went up to Miss Chandrakala and told her, "I'm gonna go to the library and see if the Doctor found any of the professor's research in the library. Thanks for your time.”

     The head maid gave a snort. “You're wasting your time. That research is nothing but a dead man's folly.” Suddenly, her expression became distant, her tone thoughtful. “Though perhaps if he asked about...” She shook her head, her expression set with determination. “I must go and see milady.” John watched curiously as she hustled out of the kitchen, a determined set to her shoulders.

     His plan had been to go to the library, but now he had a feeling that Miss Chandrakala knew more than she was saying, or had realized something. Whatever she was going to tell Lady Eddison, it was probably important to the case. John decided to follow her and try and hear what she told the lady.

     As Miss Chandrakala made her way outside, John went out into the hallway. There was a window there where he could watch Miss Chandrakala. His intention was to see where she was headed, then try to listen to her conversation with Lady Eddison. She was hurrying along the cobblestone path, making her ways towards the main house. Suddenly, she paused. John's brow furrowed in confusion as the servant looked slowly upward.

     There was a sound like stone shifting, Miss Chandrakala screamed, and then a statue fell from the roof and slammed down onto her head. She crumpled instantly, falling into a motionless heap. John felt a thrill of shock at the suddenness of it all, then he took off back into the kitchen and out the door, racing to her side.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Doctor had been too distracted by his books and looking through the research to hear Donna's cry, which had been muffled by the closed door. But he could hear the loud _thud_ , and the scream before it.

     The Time Lord got to his feet in an instant, and raced for the door.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly, Greg, Donna, Sherlock, and Agatha Christie were heading back down the staircase, ready to regroup with the others and begin their search for the giant wasp, when they heard the _thud_ and the scream. They exchanged a quick glance, then bolted towards the door that led to outside.

     They found Miss Chandrakala lying on the ground, a broken statue beside her and blood on her forehead. John was already at her side, and Molly soon crouched beside her as well, her hand laid comfortingly on the top of her head while she tried to assess the damage. It didn't take long to figure out that she wasn't going to make it.

     Sherlock stayed standing, but Donna, Greg, and Agatha crouched beside the fallen woman as well, and a few moments later, the Doctor ran out of the house and joined them crouched beside the maid. “What happened?” he asked.

     “Come on, back up, give her some room,” John commanded. Reluctantly, Donna, Agatha, Greg, and the Doctor stepped back a bit, leaving John and Molly beside the woman.

     Molly stroked the top of the woman's head, trying to sooth the dying woman. “Shh, it's alright,” she said quietly.

     Miss Chandrakala was staring at nothing, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to talk. In a hoarse voice, she finally rasped out, “The... poor... little... child...” She took a few more breaths, then she was gone. Molly let out a soft sigh, and gently closed her eyes, remembering doing the same for Mr. Griffiths so long ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this episode is going to be *really* long. I'm on part four, and not quite halfway through the episode. Oops.
> 
> Anyway, more interactions, and more investigating and such. Sorry, it's late and I've quite forgotten anything I planned to say here.


	56. The Unicorn and the Wasp: Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The travelers try to find out more about the giant wasp.

     The Doctor looked sadly down at Miss Chandrakala. That was the second human to die today. He'd barely showed up in time to do more than listen to her last words. People were dying too fast, and he still couldn't figure out how to stop it.

     A loud _buzzing_ above his head broke the Time Lord out of his thoughts. He looked up to see a very strange sight. An enormous wasp was hovering above them, _buzzing_ angrily. The Doctor's eyes widened in surprise. “Well, I didn't see that coming,” he commented.

     Donna, however, didn't seem that surprised. “That's the one, that's the wasp I saw before!” she called.

     As the creature started to fly back towards the house, the Doctor said, “Well, come on then!” He bolted after it, his companions and Agatha Christie right behind him.

     Lestrade laughed as they ran. “Now we're the ones chasing the alien, instead of the other way around,” he commented.

     “Can’t be an alien,” Agatha said stubbornly as they ran into the house. “It’s a trick, they do it with mirrors!” The Doctor ignored her as they ran up the stairs. He could worry about bringing her to terms with this later.

     When they reached the top of the stairs, the wasp was there, hanging onto an archway over their heads. The Doctor skidded to a halt, staring up at the creature in wonder. He heard Agatha gasp, “By all that's holy!” behind him, but he didn't pay her any attention. He was totally focused on the wasp.

     “Oh, but you are wonderful,” he breathed. It was a truly magnificent specimen. If only he knew where it came from. It couldn't be anywhere near local. There were insectivore lifeforms out there, but nowhere near this galatic vector. It had to be from way out of town. Why was it here? What did it want?

     His enthusiam turned to wariness as the wasp lowered itself from the archway and began approaching them, _buzzing_ threateningly. “Now, just stop, stop there!” he warned, but it was no use. They all dodged out the way as the wasp struck, running to either side as its stinger crashed into the wall. It scraped at the wall, making the creature stumble, but it got back up quickly enough.

     The Doctor, Donna, Sherlock, and Agatha had all dodged to one side while Molly, Lestrade, and John had dodged to another. They were still stuck on the ground as the wasp righted itself. It began flying towards Molly and Lestrade, _buzzing_ angrily. The Doctor started to call out a warning, but Donna beat him to it. “Oi, flyboy!” As it turned to face her, she raised her magnifying glass meaningfully. The wasp took one look at it and buzzed off towards the hallway.

     The Doctor saw the danger of the situation right away. “Don't let it get away!” he shouted as he got to his feet and bolted after it, his companions right on his heels. “Quick! Before it reverts back to human form!”

     But it was too late. As they rounded the corner, the Doctor yelled, “Where are you? Come on! There's nowhere to run. Show yourself!” Instead of a wasp, all of the guests – and residents – of the house poked their heads out of their doors, staring at the Doctor inquiringly. No one was missing, and no one was in any way, shape, or form resembling a wasp.

     The Doctor let out a groan. “Oh, that's just cheating.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     All the guests and time-travellers filed back into the drawing room, subdued by the news of the new death. Lady Eddison was sobbing, holding a wrinkled tissue in her hand and dabbing it to her face. For a stiff upper-lip, well-to-do lady, she truly seemed devastated over the loss of her servant. “My faithful companion, this is terrible!” she sobbed as she sank onto the couch, her son hovering worriedly beside her.

     John cleared his throat. “Um, Lady Eddison?” She looked up at him questioningly, tears brimming in her eyes. “Before she died, she was on her way to talk to you about something. Something she thought the professor might have been asking about?”

     Lady Eddison shook her head. “She never found me,” she said quietly. “She had an appointment with death instead. And I don't know what she would have meant by that. I wish I could help more.”

     John dipped his head, looking away from Lady Eddison. Somehow, he felt just a bit responsible for this. If he had convinced Miss Chandrakala to talk to him instead of going to talk to Lady Eddison, if he had just been close enough to push her out of harm's way, maybe she'd still be alive. He looked up again, gaze sweeping across the room.

     When his gaze fell on Sherlock, his flatmate was looking at him with that intense, measuring stare of his. Sherlock gave a minute shake of his head. It only took a moment for John to understand. Sherlock had read his feelings, or guessed them, and was telling him it wasn't his fault. Somehow, just having Sherlock say that made John feel better. His flatmate really was becoming more human.

     The Doctor's brow furrowed. “She said 'The poor little child,'” he remarked. “Does that mean anything to anyone?”

     Everyone shook their heads. “No children in this house for years,” Hugh declared. He glared at Davenport, who was standing behind his son, as he added, “Highly unlikely there will be.” Molly gave Hugh a reproachful look, but didn't say anything.

     Lady Eddison turned to Agatha, who looked like she was still trying to come to grips with the situation. “Mrs Christie, you must have twigged something,” the woman pleaded, “You’ve written simply the best detective stories.”

     “Tell us, what would Poirot do?” the Reverend inquired.

     “Heavens sake! Cards on the table, woman, you should be helping us,” Hugh demanded.

     Agatha's eyes widened; she seemed overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of questioning. “But, I’m merely a writer,” she stammered.

     “But surely you can crack it,” Miss Redmond insisted. “These events, they’re exactly like one of your plots.”

     “That’s what I’ve been saying!” Donna said. “Agatha, that’s gotta mean something.”

     Lestrade's gaze became stern as he looked around the room. “Guys, give her some room,” he warned. John felt much the same way. She was dealing with enough as it was, trying to come to terms with the existence of aliens and giant wasps.

     “But we need answers,” Richard said firmly, “And Mrs. Christie is the one to give them to us. So let's hear it.” He turned expectantly to Agatha, but the writer shook her head.

     “I’ve no answers,” she said in a subdued tone. She seemed resigned, as though she had given up. “None. I’m sorry, all of you, I’m truly sorry, but I’ve failed. If anyone can help us then it’s the Doctor, not me.”

     All eyes turned to the Doctor. The Time Lord gazed back at them all with an unreadable expression, but John got the feeling that he understood the weight of the situation far better than anyone else in the room. He knew, far more than them, what was at stake if he failed. What kind of pressure did that have to mean for him? Was this how he lived his life every day? Was this what it meant to walk among men and aliens?

     John let out a sigh, sneaking a look at Sherlock. _Maybe we've made a mistake after all,_ he wondered.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Several minutes had passed. Everyone had gone their separate ways, apart from the travelers. Agatha had seemed pretty down when she'd walked off before, so Donna decided to go after her and see if she could talk to her.

     She stood from the couch. "I think I'll go for a walk," she told the others casually.

     They all looked up at her with varying degrees of curiosity. The only reply she got was from Sherlock. He had been pacing, palms pressed together thoughtfully in front of his mouth, but now he was paused and looking evenly at Donna. "I'll come with you," he told her.

     Donna felt a flicker of surprise, and for a moment, she hesitated. She was trying to comfort Agatha, not get her insulted and belittled. But in the end she just shrugged. "Alright."

     Together, they made their way out of the house and out into the garden. They took their time, strolling casually on the path beside the house. Neither spoke for several moments.

     Finally, Donna's curiosity got the better of her. But she knew better than to ask right-out. “Don't expect me to ask whether you came back because you missed me,” she sniffed.

     Sherlock actually chuckled at that. “That would be about as likely as me admitting that I missed you,” he returned in a voice warm with amusement. That was about as close to an admission of caring about someone that Donna had ever heard from him. It felt good to hear.

     She grinned, bumping his arm with her shoulder. "So, how's it been since you got back?" she asked.

     He glanced at her with a brow furrowed with confusion. "Hmm?"

     She rolled her eyes. "How's it been going? Has John been treating you alright? Did he forgive you?"

     Sherlock blinked. "Oh. Yes, things have been fine. A little different perhaps, but fine."

     "Different? Different how?"

     The consulting detective snorted. “You can hardly learn about the existence of aliens and travel amongst them without your life being a little different after.” He paused, his stony expression softening and becoming distant and thoughtful. “It changes your perspective. Makes you look at things differently.”

     Donna's eyebrows raised in surprise. “You? Look at things differently?”

     Sherlock gave her an annoyed glance, but Donna could see the amusement underneath. After a few moments, he continued. “Things have changed since I returned. The cases are different. I keep looking at people, and the variables have changed. It's throwing me off.”

     Something here didn't add up. Donna and Sherlok were friends now, but that didn't mean Sherlock would admit something like that as easily as he had. And this whole “vacation” of his. When would Sherlock Holmes of all people ever take a vacation without there being some kind of ulterior motive or plan involved? Something else was going on here. Donna couldn't help but feel worried about her friend. If there was something wrong, she wanted to help him.

     She decided to just come out and ask it. “What are you doing here?” He glanced at her in surprise. “This vacation of yours, coming with us on the TARDIS, what's it all about?”

     Something flickered in the detective's eyes. He seemed almost uncertain. “I'm testing a hypothesis,” he said slowly.

     “About what?” Donna asked softly.

     “About whether I made the right decision.”

     Donna was about to ask him more, but his gaze slid away from her, and his voice became brisk and business-like again. “I think we've found your writer friend.” Donna followed his gaze, spotting Agatha Christie sitting in on a bench in a small gazebo, head and shoulders hunched. “That's why we're here, isn't it? To cheer her up?” The last sentence, he said every word slowly, as though speaking about a subject completely alien to him. To be fair, it probably was.

     The companion shook her head. “Right. Yeah.” She started off towards Agatha, but internally, she promised herself that this conversation was not over. She also made a note to keep Sherlock on a tight leash during this particular conversation. The point was to make things better, not worse.

     Agatha didn't look up as they approached. Donna could see the dejection in every line of her. This murder case was really getting the writer down. The companion approached the writer, coming to sit beside her and telling her in a deliberately cheerful voice, “D’you know what I think? Those books of yours, one day they could turn them into films, they could be talking pictures.”

     The writer finally looked up, expression full of confusion. “Talking pictures?” she repeated dubiously. “Pictures that... talk? What do you mean?”

     Donna drew in a sharp breath as she realized what she'd said. "Oh, blimey, I've done it again," she groaned.

     "Once again, Noble, you are the master of blending in," Sherlock snarked.

     Donna glared at Sherlock. "Yeah, 'cause that wardrobe just screams 1920's," she retorted, staring pointedly at his coat and scarf. He glared back, but didn't reply, which Donna counted as a victory.

     Agatha looked between the travelers, eyes still bright with confusion. "I swear, I don't understands half the things you people say." She sighed and shook her head. "I appreciate you trying to be kind, but you’re right, these murders are like my own creations. It’s as though someone’s mocking me, and I’ve had enough scorn for one lifetime."

     Donna nodded, letting out an understanding _hum_. “Yeah...” she sighed. “Thing is, I had this bloke once, I was engaged, and I loved him, I really did. Turns out he was lying through his teeth. But d’you know what? I moved on. I was lucky, I found the Doctor and Molly, and it’s changed my life. There’s always someone else.”

     Agatha's expression became sharp with anger, her posture suddenly rigid. Her voice was stiff as stiff as she sniffed, “I see. Is my marriage the stuff of gossip now?”

     “No!” Donna assured her.

     “It hardly needs to be, it's obvious to see,” Sherlock said at the same time.

     Donna turned to glare at him. “Zip it, stick insect,” she growled. She turned back to the writer, giving her an apologetic, “I'm sorry.”

     Agatha sighed, her anger deflated. “No matter. The stories are true. I found my husband with another woman. A younger, prettier woman, isn’t it always the way?” Her tone was full of bitterness as she spoke, her eyes flashing with anger. Donna completely understood the feeling. Memories of Lance and his betrayal came to mind.

     “Well, mine was with a giant spider, but, same difference,” Donna commented. Sherlock gave her an odd look at the comment. She had never told him that story before – not that he'd given her much reason to do so before they'd become friends.

     Agatha was looking at her oddly as well, but she seemed almost fascinated rather than put off. “You and your friends talk such wonderful nonsense,” she laughed.

     “Agatha, people love your books, they really do,” Donna assured her. Sherlock opened his mouth, but Donna threw him so icy a look that he immediately shut it again. She turned back to Agatha as she added, “They’re gonna be reading them for years to come.”

     The writer shook her head, smiling sadly. “If only. Try as I might it’s hardly great literature, now that’s beyond me.” She sighed. “I’m afraid my books will be forgotten, like ephemera.”

     Agatha suddenly paused, her eyes narrowing. “Hello, what's that?” She stood and started walking towards the flower beds across the path from them, Sherlock and Donna following her. “Those flowerbeds were perfectly neat earlier...”

     “And now they're bent over,” Sherlock finished, gaze suddenly sharp with interest. The writer and the detective crouched together, pushing aside the bent stalks until they uncovered some sort of box.

     “There you go, who’d ever notice that? You’re brilliant!” Donna encouraged the writer. She glared at Sherlock, daring him to contradict her on the matter, but he wasn't looking at her. He was gazing at Agatha Christie with something like grudging respect.

     “Nicely spotted,” he told the writer gruffly. Donna's eyes widened in shock. Sherlock Holmes was giving someone, especially a silly mysery writer, a compliment? Things really had changed.

     Agatha looked surprised too. She hesitated, her gaze measuring the detective in front of her, before she gave a more confident smile. “Thank you,” she said. “Now, let's go take this to your friends and see what we can learn from it.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     After Donna and Sherlock left, the only ones left in the drawing room were Molly, Greg, John, and the Doctor. Molly and Greg were seated together on the couch, Greg's arm wrapped around her shoulders, John sat across from them on a chair, and the Doctor was standing and pacing, as was usual for him.

     Molly sighed. They had hardly been there more than a few hours, and already two people were dead. They knew _what_ had killed these people, but they still had no idea _who_ had done it, or why. It was exceedingly frustrating, especially when people were dropping around them and they still had no way of stopping it.

     As she shifted, laying her cheek against Greg's shoulder, he looked down at her. In a tone warm with amusement, he commented, “I wouldn't ve thought you'd be more excited about this.” She looked up at him questioningly. What about this situation was exciting? “We're solving a murder mystery with Agatha Christie. You're the biggest reader on the TARDIS, except for maybe the Doctor. It seems like your kind of trip.”

     Molly's tense expression melted, a laugh escaping her. Greg always had known what to say to make her de-stress after a particularly bad day. “Actually, I've never read any of her books,” the companion admitted. Greg looked at her in surprise. “I've been meaning to,” Molly defended herself. “I just haven't gotten around to it yet. Running around and saving the world for two and a half years really doesn't leave a lot of free time for reading.”

     “I suppose not,” Greg admitted. “Still, you should really read something of hers. Or at least get a book signed before we leave.”

     Molly grinned. “I'll think about it,” she said. Really, though, it wasn't a bad idea. If she could get Agatha to sign one of her books, then proceeded to read it and enjoy it, then she'd always have a signed copy of a book from an author who's work she enjoyed. Her signed copy of “Les Misersables” was still one of her most prized possessions, other than her fob watch necklace, which was still around her neck.

     A door behind them opened, and Agatha, Donna, and Sherlock walked into the room. Molly looked up to see them carrying some sort of black box. “We found this in the garden,” Agatha supplied. They set it down on the round table between the couch and the two chairs. Donna, Agatha, Sherlock, and the Doctor all crouched around the table, while Greg and Molly remained on the couch, and John stayed in his chair.

     “Agatha spotted it,” Donna added, giving the writer a warm glance. Molly watched with a feeling of pride. Donna was so good at talking to people and making them feel good about themselves. She still remembered Donna letting her sob into her shoulder when she was suffering from trauma over the Year, and how non-judgemental she had been. Her friend didn't realize how amazing she was.

     The Doctor leaned forward with interest. He opened the box, revealing some sort of tool kit. There were delicate-looking metal and wooden tools. Molly's brow furrowed. They looked like something that would be used to break in somewhere. She'd had to do enough sneaking around during the Year to recognize that sort of thing.

     The Time Lord also seemed interested in the contents. “Oh! Someone came here tooled up,” he remarked.

     “Looks like something a thief would have with them,” Molly commented pointedly.

     Agatha's eyes widened. “The Unicorn? He's here?”

     “Of course she is,” Sherlock said irritably. “Didn't you hear those interviews?”

     Agatha looked at him like he was mad, but something clicked in Molly's mind. That's what Sherlock had been trying to tell her and Greg. Her boyfriend seemed to realize too. “Wait, so that's why she was being shifty?”

     Sherlock nodded. “She's the Unicorn.”

     Agatha looked between them with utter confusion. Then, her eyes widened with understanding. “Of course. That explains everything.”

     Donna looked utterly confused with all of them, but the Doctor didn't appear to be paying attention. His expression was thoughtful as he mused to himself, “The Unicorn and the Wasp.”

     Just then, Greeves entered the room, drinks on a tray. “Your drinks,” he said formally.

     Everyone reached out for their orders, the Doctor giving an appreciative, “Very good, Greeves!” He sat back in the chair beside John's. Sherlock, Greg, and Molly hadn't ordered anything, and Donna and John set their drinks aside in favor of studying the toolbox.

     “How about the science stuff, what did you find?” Donna asked as Agatha took a sip of her drink.

     In answer, the Doctor pulled a test tube out of his jacket. “Vespiform sting,” he revealed. “Vespiforms have got hives in the Silfrax galaxy.” He'd swiped it from the stinger than Molly, Greg, and Sherlock had found earlier.

     Agatha shook her head. “Again, you talk like Edward Lear,” she sighed.

     The Doctor _hummed_. “But for some reason, this one's behaving like a character in one of your books.” He picked up his drink, sipping at it while the others thought.

     “It seems like this keeps connecting back to the books,” John commented.

     Donna turned to Agatha. “Come on, Agatha, what would Miss Marple do? She'd have overheard something vital by now, because the murderer thinks she's just a harmless old lady.”

     Agatha's gaze sharpened with interest. “Clever idea,” she mused. “Miss Marple? Who writes those?” Molly held back a snort of amusement. Donna wasn't always the best at hiding facts about the future from people in the past.

     “Um, copyright Donna Noble, add it to the list,” the ginger companion said quickly.

     “Donna,” the Doctor said warningly.

     Donna rolled her eyes. “Okay, we could split the copyright,” she allowed. But Molly kept her eyes on the Doctor. Something was wrong here.

     Her suspicion was confirmed when the Doctor tensed. “No. Something's inhibiting my enzymes.” With a cry of pain, he lurched forward, expression tight with agony. Molly flew to her feet immediately, reaching out towards the Time Lord. “I've been poisoned!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wow. I am _so_ sorry about the wait. First, I got distracted by stuff that was happening in another fandom and I had to write stuff for that. Then my legs got better enough that I could go back to work, so that was distracting. I finally found enough time to finish this chapter though, and I'll try to finish the next one quickly.
> 
> I reckon this story should maybe take... two more chapters? Maybe three? Ugh, I never intended this one to go on this long, but here it is anyway. Oh well.
> 
> So, what do you think of the new additions to the story/dialogue? I'm trying to give the others enough screentime, I really am.


	57. The Unicorn and the Wasp: Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is poisoned, and the companions race to save him.

     Molly felt a thrill of terror. "Poisoned?" She glanced at the glass the Doctor had been sipping at. A strange sort of calm washed over her. She couldn't afford to feel panic right now, so she pushed it away, letting cool professionalism take its place. "What do we do?"

     As the Doctor writhed in pain, Agatha sniffed at his glass. "Bitter almonds," she gasped. "It's cyanide. Sparkling cyanide!"

     Without warning, the Doctor leapt to his feet and bolted out of the room. The others had no choice but to follow him as he raced into the kitchen.

     When they reached the kitchen, Davenport and the other servers were there. The Doctor put his hands on Davenport's shoulders, trying to support himself. "Ginger beer!" he shouted.

     Davenport looked at him like he was mad. "What?"

     "I need ginger beer!" The Doctor dashed away, shoving things off of a shelf in an attempt to find ginger beer. Lestrade beat him to it. He hand it to the Time Lord, who gulped it down desperately, pouring some of it on his neck and shoulders.

     "I'm an expert in poisons, Doctor," Agatha told him urgently. "There's no cure! It's fatal!"

     "But maybe not to him," Sherlock corrected her firmly. He too had managed to push any hint of panic away in favor of cool-headed urgency. "Doctor, can you survive it?"

     The Doctor nodded, spitting out the rest of the drink and leaning heavily on the countertop. "I can stimulate the inhibited enzymes into reversal... Protein! I need protein!" He was panting heavily, face contorted into an expression of agony.

     At once, everyone rushed off in search of something with protein. Donna was the first to find it. "Walnuts?" she offered quickly, holding out the jar to the Doctor. He nodded, taking it and dumping the contents into his mouth.

     With his mouth full, he was only able to mime his next request. He seemed to be shaking something with one hand. Donna shook her head. "I can't understand you! How many words?" He held up one finger.

     "Shake... milkshake?" Molly tried. The Doctor shook his head. "What then?"

     Donna guessed, "Cocktail shaker! What do you want, a Harvey Wallbanger?"

     The Doctor finally managed to swallow the walnuts. "Harvey Wallbanger?!" he asked incredulously.

      "Well, I don't know," Donna replied in tense anger.

     "How is Harvey Wallbanger one word?!" the Doctor demanded.

     "Focus!" John demanded. "Doctor, what do you need?"

     "Salt! I need salt, I was miming something salty!" His companions took off in search of salty things. Greg returned to him with a salt shaker. "Will this work?"

     The Doctor shook his head. "That's too salty."

      "How is salt too salty?" Donna demanded.

     The Doctor didn't have time to answer; just then, Agatha approached him, holding out a jar of something. “What about this?!” The Time Lord snatched the jar without a word and wolfed down the contents.

     “What was that?” Molly asked.

     Agatha answered distractedly, “Anchovies.”

     His mouth full again, the Doctor was forced to resort to miming again. He was waving his hands, opening and closing his fits rapidly. “What is it? What else? It's a song?” Donna tried.

     Molly thought it looked a bit familiar. “Is it your hearts? You need some sort of hit, to get your hearts pumping?” Agatha looked at her oddly, but only for a moment. The Doctor's predicament was more important at the moment.

     “Mammy?” Donna asked desperately. “Um, I don't know, Camptown Races?”

     “Camptown Races?!” the Doctor demanded once he'd finished swallowing.

     “All right then, Towering Inferno!” Donna snarked.

     The Doctor shook his head. “It's a shock!” He waved his hands in emphasis. “Look! Shock! I need a shock!”

     Donna started to step forward, but Sherlock cut her off, coming to stand directly in front of the Doctor. His face was completely expressionless as he told the Time Lord, “I suppose now is a good time to mention that I've programed the TARDIS to self-destruct if any enemy life-forms pass through the door.

     The Time Lord's eyes widened in shock. “You what?!” He stiffened. After stumbling back, the Time Lord threw his head and arms back, gray smoke escaping from his opened mouth. The travelers and Agatha Christie watched in anxious hope.

     After several moments, the smoke stopped, and the Doctor stumbled back, sweaty and covered in ginger beer, but no longer gasping in pain. “Ahh,” he said in relief. “Detox. I must do that more often.” He paused. “You were joking, right? About the TARDIS?”

     Sherlock sniffed. “Obviously. If I had an inclination to program the TARDIS, it wouldn't be to do something as useless as self-destruct.” Now looking completely uninterested in the whole situation, the detective turned and walked away, everyone watching without a word.

     Molly decided to say what everyone was thinking. “You know,” she commented lightly, “He never said he wasn't capable of programing the TARDIS.”

     The Doctor had only one thought in his mind after what Molly had said. _I need to check every inch of the console and make sure Sherlock hasn't changed_ anything _._

     Agatha was staring at the Doctor in complete and utter shock. “Doctor, you are impossible!” she breathed. The Doctor winked at her before turning and starting out the room. Agatha followed him, seeming totally shaken. “Who are you? _What_ are you?”

     Molly let out a laugh of relief. “He's the Doctor.” Now that the danger was passed and there was no more need to be cool and collected, a sort of shaky relief fell over her. The true depths of what had almost happened finally sank in. He probably would have only regenerated, but there was no way of being certain. He could have died.

     She ran towards the Time Lord, taking him completely by surprise as she pulled him into a tight, crushing hug. He stumled back in surprise, then regained his footing and returned the hug full-force. The companion burrowed her face in his shoulder. “Don't scare me like that again. You got it?” she told him in a voice that tried to be stern but couldn't quite hide her relief.

     The Doctor closed his eyes, a wide grin spreading over his face. “Got it.” Molly hugging him had really come as a surprise. That used to be a more common occurance. This particular incarnation of him was more hug-friendly than previous ones, and once Molly had become comfortable with her new friend, she had been prone to celebratory hugs after life-threatening situations had been survived. But Molly hadn't done that much since the Year had ended. Now that she had, now that she was comfortable enough to do that again, the Doctor felt a warm rush of relief. For the first time in a long time, he felt like his friend was truly back.

**SCENEBREAK**

     It was dark by now, thunder and the pounding of rain the only sounds to be heard. The guests and travellers were seated for dinner, silent and subdued as they ate.

     Sherlock was starting to feel irritated. This should have been easy. This was his element. The sort of case he solved everyday, that he made his living off of. But hours had passed, two people were dead, and he still didn't know who the killer was.

     It was a truly frustrating situation. He knew what the killer was. He knew exactly what it looked like, how it had killed them, and where it came from. But he still didn't know who it was, or why it had killed them. That was the most frustrating bit. There was no motive. At least not one that could pin down yet.

     It had something to do with the professor's research. That much he knew. That was the professor was dead, and if Chandrakala had figured it out and was going to tell Lady Eddison, then that was probably why she was dead too. But he still didn't know what the professor was researching. He needed more information. He didn't have enough to work with.

     Even worse was the thought that wouldn't leave him alone, the thought that he had all the information he needed, but he wasn't putting the pieces together. What if he was slipping? The thought worried him more than he would ever admit. So he kept it to himself, and let the dinner continue on in silence.

     At least until the Doctor spoke. "A terrible day for all of us," he announced suddenly. Everyone looked up at him with wary curiosity. "The Professor struck down, Miss Chandrakala taken cruelly from us… and yet we still take dinner."

     "We are British, Doctor," Lady Eddison reminded him stiffly. "What else must we do?"

     As if he hadn't heard, the Doctor continued, "Then someone tried to poison me. Any one of you had the chance to put cyanide in my drink." The Time Lord's gaze swept around the table, casual but intense at the same time. Sherlock wondered what he was playing at. "But it rather gave me an idea."

     "And what would that be?" the Reverend asked warily.

     "Well … poison." Everyone paused. "Drink up!" The Doctor took another sip of soup, but no one else moved, staring down at their bowls in worry. The Doctor watched their reactions carefully as he told them, I’ve laced the soup with pepper."

     Everyone else relaxed, but Sherlock realized what was up right away. He scanned the faces of the guests, looking for any sign of worry or hesitation. “Ah, I thought it was jolly spicy,” Hugh noted heartily. The guests were more relaxed now that they knew they weren't about to be poisoned, but they still looked a bit worried and confused. Sherlock couldn't tell which one looked the most concerned.

     “But you see,” Sherlock said quietly, “The active ingredient of pepper is piperine...”

     “...traditionally used as an insecticide,” the Doctor finished. Everyone at the table seemed very confused, except for the travellers, who watched with cautious anticipation. “So, anyone got the shivers?”

     There was a beat of silence. Then thunder crashed, lightning flashed, the window flew open and the candles were blown out by the window. The room was thrown into darkness, lit only by the flashes of lightning. Sherlock felt a rush of frustration. The experiment was ruined.

     “What the deuce is that?” Hugh demanded fearfully.

     The Doctor shushed him. “Listen… listen, listen, listen!” Sherlock could hear it, the faint _buzzing_ of the vespiform. It was here, and it was getting ready to strike.

     Lady Eddison's eyes widened in shock. “No,” she gasped. “It can't be.” Sherlock's head snapped up, looking in her direction. _It can't be?_ He stored away the words for later.

     Lightning continued to crash, lighting up the room with bright flashes of light. Agatha slowly stood. Sherlock could tell she was terrified, but her voice was surprisingly strong as she cried, “Show yourself, demon!”

     “Come out and face us!” Molly called out strongly.

     There was a rush of panic among the guests. They began to flee the room. Sherlock saw the danger immediately. If they were all out of view, it would be impossible to see who the vespiform was when it changed. “No, don't!”

     “Stay where you are!” John called. But it was too late. They were already fleeing. Between the flashes of light, Sherlock saw the vespiform, hovering in front of them and _buzzing_ furiously.

     It began to fly towards them. “Out, out, out, out!” the Doctor cried, bolting for the door. Sherlock ran for it, making sure Molly and John were at his side before he exited the room. They escaped into a small room with two swords mounted on the wall. Lestrade was helping Hugh leave, and Molly had dragged Lady Eddison along beside them. The Doctor pushed Agatha into the room with them and Greeves, leaving the small space very crowded. “Not you, Agatha,” he was telling the writer. “You’ve got a long, long life to live yet.”

     The Doctor grabbed one of the swords off the wall, pulling it from it's sheath. Sherlock followed suit and grabbed the other. Of the companions, he was the most knowledgeable about swordplay.

     As they unsheathed their swords, Donna commented, “Well, we know the butler didn’t do it!” with a glance at Greeves.

     “Time to find out who did,” John said grimly. They made their way back into the room, now that two of them were armed. But it was too late. The vespiform had vanished.

     Sherlock's gaze immediately sweeped over the area, trying to gather information. Miss Redmond, the Reverend, and Davenport were all still in the room. Greeves, Hugh, and Lady Eddison had come with them, so they were both ruled out.

     Lady Eddison let out a gasp. Her hand went to her neck, which was now noticably bare. “My jewelry! The Firestone! It’s gone! Stolen…” Sherlock's gaze flew directly to a certain guest, but he kept quiet. They could deal with that later.

     That's when he heard a choked cry. “Roger...” Davenport was staring at a slumped body, expression lit up with horror and disbelief, tears in his eyes. Roger was dead, slumped over his soup with a knife in his back.

     Miss Redmond screamed, and Lady Eddison stood, shaking her head. She made her way towards the body, arms outstetched and expression twisted in grief. “My son … my child!” she sobbed as she leaned over him, sobbing onto his shoulder. Sherlock and the others watched in grim silence. Thunder _cracked_ in the distance.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Afterwards, the Doctor, John, Agatha, Donna, and Sherlock were back in the drawing room, sitting in subdued silence as they thought about what had just happened. Lestrade and Molly were elsewhere, trying to comfort the grieving family.

     "That poor footman," Donna said quietly. "Roger’s dead and he can’t even mourn him. 1926, it’s more like the dark ages."

     Sherlock didn't say a word. He was sitting in a chair, head bowed and eyes closed, hands clasped under his chin. He didn't notice Agatha approaching him until she spoke. "I think this is the longest since I've met you that I've heard you go without a smart remark." He gave her a glare, but there was no heat behind it. She sat in the chair beside him. "What are you thinking about?"

     Sherlock shook his head. "The motive. It has to be something to do with the professor's research. The professor was killed because he was getting close to finding something out, and Miss Chandrakala was killed because she figured out what it was and was going to tell Lady Eddison."

     "But if that's the motive, then why was Roger killed?" Agatha finished Sherlock's thought grimly. "He knew nothing of the professor's research and have no indication of finding anything out about it. It doesn't fit." She sighed, leaning back against the chair with a hand pinching the bridge of her nose. "We're back to square one."

     The Doctor frowned. "Not sure if a vespiform needs a motive, or one that you or I would understand. It can sting, it can fly. It could wipe us all out in seconds, why is it playing this game?"

     Agatha shook her head irritably. "Doctor, stop it. The murderer is as human as you or I."

      The Time Lord's eyes widened in surprise. "You're right," he realized. Before Sherlock could ask what he meant, the alien was kneeling in front of them, eyes bright with excitement. "You're right, you're both right, you've been saying it all along. Ah, I’ve been so caught up with giant wasps that I’ve forgotten. You’re the experts!"

     Sherlock listened with interest and surprise, but Agatha shook her head, tone heavy with hesitation. "I'm not, I've told you! I’m just a... purveyor of nonsense."

     "No, no, no, no, no! Because plenty of people write detective stories, but yours are the best!" the Doctor assured her. "And why? Why are you so good, Agatha Christie? Because you understand! You’ve lived… you’ve fought… you’ve had your heart broken. You know about people... their passions, their hope, and despair, and anger. All of those tiny, huge things, that can turn the most ordinary person into a killer. And you, Sherlock Holmes, you're the genius detective, the Reichenbach Hero! You notice things no one else does. The little things no one would ever look for, the ones that solve a case. Just think, Agatha! If anyone can solve this... it’s you two!"

     Sherlock and Agatha shared a wary glance. After a few moments, Agatha gave a decisive nod. She turned her Sherlock, her voice full of sharp determination. "Mr. Holmes, would you be willing to work together with me to finally bring this to an end?"

     Sherlock observed her quietly. At first, he'd just brushed her off as a silly writer. Over the course of the night, she had proved to be intelligent in her own right, and a decent investigator. She had figured out some of the key points of the case so far.

     Sherlock also had a sneaking suspicion that Agatha was no longer fooled by their guise as inspectors. The fact that she had just referred to him as Mr. Holmes instead of Inspector Holmes was enough to suggest that. But she still trusted them, she was still willing to work with them, and she was intelligent. That was enough for Sherlock.

     The consulting detective got to his feet. "Let's get to work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit. I didn't have a lot of free time to write.
> 
> Anyway, here's the new chapter. A couple of you were asking about what the new "shock" would be. I was originally planning to just keep the Donna kiss, but I decided to play around with some other ideas as well. I ended up writing two different scenarios out in full; this one, and the Donna kiss. So if you're really desperate to see my take on the Donna kiss, message me and I'll send it to you.
> 
> I know I said I wouldn't change POV's mid-scene again, but I couldn't think of another way to make that scene work. And it made for a really cute Molly and Doctor moment. ^^
> 
> There should only be one chapter left. It might be a bit long, or it might not, I can't tell yet.


	58. The Unicorn and the Wasp: Part Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mystery finally comes to a close, thanks to Sherlock and Agatha.

     The muffled sound of sobbing told Molly they had found the right room. She glanced back at Greg, then pushed the door open and took a small step into the bedroom.

     Lady Eddison was flung onto the bed, sobbing with abandon into the sheets. Hugh was sitting by the bed, gently rubbing his's wife's back. He was crying as well, his eyes red and puffy.

     Molly knocked on the doorframe, getting the couple's attention. "May we come in?" she asked quietly. Hugh hesitated before nodding. He was too distressed to speak. Greg and Molly entered the room, closing the door quietly behind them.

     Lady Eddison didn't look up as they entered. She was too caught up in her grief to really notice them. Molly crossed over to the bed, slowly seating herself beside the woman. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly. Greg stayed by the dresser, watching somberly.

     Lady Eddison looked up, her eyes red from crying. In a hoarse voice, she said, "No mother should ever have to lose her child." She let out a shuddering sigh. "Especially not to death."

     Molly nodded. There wasn't much she could say to that kind of grief. It had been a long time since Molly had been the one to comfort the victims they came across. Once, that had been her strength. But she hadn't really done it for a long while. But now, after time had passed and she had begun to heal from her own trauma, it felt right to step back into this role.

     She waited until Lady Eddison calmed slightly before she tried to speak again. "Lady Eddison, Colonel, I am so sorry that we couldn't save your son. But I promise you this. We will find out who did this."

     "We will get justice for your son," Greg added. Privately, Molly wondered how that was going to work. They couldn't exactly let humans chuck a giant flying wasp into prison. That tended to be a problem quite often in their adventures. She didn't know what the plan was once they did catch this thing, but she had to hope it would work out in the end. At the very least, they could keep anyone else from dying.

     Aloud, she told Lady Eddison firmly, "Listen, this is what me and the others do. This is what we're good at. And we won't leave until we figure out who was responsible for your son's death. I promise you that.”

     Lady Eddison looked at Molly silently, her face worn and tired, looking older from grief. Her eyes were dull from pain, but after a few moments, they seemed lit with the tiniest bit of hope. She gave a small nod. In a surprisingly strong voice after her earlier tremoring tone, the lady said, “I'll hold you to that.”

     Molly smiled. “Duly noted.”

     Just then, there was a sharp rap at the door. Molly looked up to see Davenport looking into the room. His eyes were red and puffy; it was obvious to anyone that he had been crying. Hugh gave him a dirty look, but didn't say anything, thankfully. Molly wished she could challenge the couple's homophobic views. The poor footman had just watched a man he clearly loved die, and he was being forced to grieve in silence. It was only respect for parents that had lost their child that held her tongue.

     In a hoarse voice, Davenport told them, “The Doctor told me to bring everyone to the drawing room.”

     “Why?” Lady Eddison asked dully. At least she wasn't acting horrible to the poor footman.

     He shrugged. “Some sort of meeting.” With that, he turned and hurried away, hiding his face from the couple.

     Molly shared a glance with Greg. What was the Doctor doing? Greg gave a small shrug; he didn't have any better an idea than she did. _This should be interesting,_ she thought to herself as she turned back to Lady Eddison. _Maybe he's found something._ “Well, we better get going. The Doctor's orders.”

     Somehow, she felt like they were drawing towards the end of it all.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Sherlock watched as all the guests filed into the room. He and Agatha had sat down for a good long while and talked everything through. Finally, all the pieces had fallen into place. He felt a strange sense of calm. Everything was figured out, and he knew where every player was on the board, and who they really were. John gave him a questioning look as he walked in, but Sherlock just gave him a small nod to assure him.

     Once everyone was assembled and seated, the Doctor stepped forward, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. “I’ve called you here on this endless night, because we have a murderer in our midst,” he announced grimly. “And when it comes to detection, there’s none finer. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you … Agatha Christie, the writer, and Sherlock Holmes, the detective!”

     The detective and writer took the Doctor's place, standing in front of the crowd. As Sherlock's gaze swept over them all, he finally knew their stories. It felt right again. That doubt from earlier was placated. _For now._

     “This is a crooked house,” Agatha began somberly. “A house of secrets. Nothing here is what it seems.”

     Sherlock picked up from there. “The only way to find the killer is to untangle all the lies. And what a web we found... starting with you,” he added as he turned to look at the person in question, “Miss Redmond.”

     The young woman blinked in surprise. “But I’m innocent, surely?” she laughed nervously.

     “Oh, hardly innocent,” Sherlock laughed. “Not completely.”

     “You’ve never met these people and these people have never met you,” Agatha added. “I think the real Robina Redmond never left London, you’re impersonating her!”

     “It was the perfect cover,” Sherlock added. “A woman of stature, one that Lady Eddison would never think to question. It was, however, the first thing that made us suspect you. You were the only stranger.”

     Miss Redmond laughed, though Sherlock could see the clear fear in her eyes, the anxiety in her tense posture. “How silly!” she said sharply. “What proof do you have?”

     Agatha smiled a little. “You said you went to the toilet…” she began.

     “Oh, I know this,” Donna interrupted. She seemed to be enjoying the show of the detective and writer figuring this out. “If she was really posh, she’d say ‘loo’.”

     Sherlock inclined his head to the ginger companion, conceding the point. “A rather unfortunate slip, Miss Redmond, and it cost you the lie. That was all it took for me to know who you are.”

     “Yeah?” Miss Redmond said defiantly. “Then who am I?”

     Agatha and Sherlock both smirked at that. The writer pulled out the toolbox they had found earlier. "Earlier today, Miss Noble, Mr. Holmes, and I found this on the lawn. Right beneath your bathroom window."

     "You have heard that Donna was searching the bedrooms, so you panicked and disposed of the evidence," Sherlock finished. "Frankly, you did a poor job of it. Your window was the closest from where it was dropped. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out where it had come from."

     Miss Redmond glanced at the box and scoffed, "I’ve never seen that thing before in my life." She was definitely getting more and more nervous the longer they talked.

     Lady Eddison peered curiously at the box. "What’s inside it?"

     Sherlock began to open your box. "The tools of Miss Redmond's trade," he explained. Once the box was open, he showed the contents to the guests. "Or should I call her the Unicorn?"

     Everyone's heads swiveled to stare at Miss Redmond in shock. She shifted uncomfortably under the attention. "You came to this house with one sole intention," Agatha declared grimly. "To steal the Firestone!"

     Miss Redmond stared between Sherlock and Agatha for several moments. Finally, she stood. The moment she did, her disguise of Miss Redmond melted away. Her prim fear, the way she held herself, her proper accent all fell away, replaced by the rougher attitude of the Unicorn. "Oh, alright then. It’s a fair cop," she sneered. "Yes, I’m the bleedin' Unicorn. Ever so nice to meet you, I don’t think."

     She pulled the Firestone out from inside her dress, tossing it carelessly to The Doctor. "I took my chance in the dark and nabbed it. Go on then, you knobs. Arrest me, sling me in jail!" The Unicorn threw herself back on the chair, glaring defiantly at everyone in sight.

     Donna looked between her and Agatha and Sherlock with interest. "So, is she the murderer?"

     The Unicorn sneered at her. "Don’t be so thick. I might be a thief, but I ain’t no killer."

     "She's right," Molly added. She must have been remembering Sherlock's earlier assurance that she wasn't the one to do it. "It's someone else."

     "Alright, then who is it?" Lestrade asked.

     Sherlock shook his head with a small, smug smile. "Patience, detective inspector," he chided. "We must unravel all the lies before we can come upon the killer. Starting with yours, Colonel."

     Hugh glared at him, voice heated as he growled, "Damn it, man! You with your perspicacity! You've rumbled me." With that, he rose stood from his wheelchair, standing on perfectly steady legs.

     That drew some murmurs and gasps of amazement, but none was more shocked than his wife. "Hugh, you can walk!" she gasped. "But why!?"

     Hugh sighed, turning to his wife with a pleading look. "My darling, how else could I be certain of keeping you by my side?"

     Lady Eddison shook her head. "I don't understand..."

     "You're still a beautiful woman, Clemency," he explained. "Sooner or later some chap will turn your head. I couldn't bear that. Staying in the chair was the only way I could be certain of keeping you."

     Molly narrowed her eyes. "So, what you're saying is, you lied to your wife because you didn't trust her. Nice." The cool disdain was clear in her tone.

     Hugh shook his head. "It was a wicked sham, I admit it." With frustration, he turned to the two standing at the front of the room. "Confound it, you two, how did you discover the truth?"

     Sherlock smirked triumphantly. “There's hints of scuffing on your shoes,” he pointed out smugly. “A man who couldn't walk wouldn't have those. I doubt you do a lot of walking, since your wife is around so often, but you must walk a little when she's not looking, otherwise you wouldn't be so steady now.”

     Hugh glared at him in frustrated silence. Donna looked at him curiously. “So, is he the murderer?” she questioned.

     “No, he may have lied, but of that he is innocent,” Agatha told her. “To find the truth let's return to this.” She reached out to the Doctor, who put the Firestone in her hand. She held it up, glancing at it. “Far more than the Unicorn's object of desire. The Firestone has quite a history.” Her gaze shifted. “Lady Eddison.”

     The woman stiffened. “I've done nothing!” she insisted.

     Agatha looked down at Lady Eddison with sympathy. “You brought it back from India, did you not? Before you met the Colonel. You came home with malaria, and confined yourself to this house for six month, in a room that has been kept locked ever since, which I rather think means...”

     “Stop, please,” Lady Eddison whispered.

     Agatha shook her head. “I'm so sorry. But you had fallen pregnant in India.” The room was utterly silent in shock. “Unmarried and ashamed, you hurried back to England with your confidante, a young maid later to become housekeeper Miss Chandrakala.”

     Hugh stared at his wife. “Clemency, is this true?”

     “My poor baby,” Lady Eddison breathed. “I had to give him away. The shame of it.”

     “But you never said a word...” Hugh protested, more out of shock than any sense of anger.

     “I had no choice,” his wife replied sharply. “Imagine the scandal. The family name! I'm British, I carry on.” She dipped her head, fighting hard to keep the obvious shame and grief out of her carefully schooled expression.

     “And it was no ordinary pregnancy,” the Doctor spoke up suddenly.

     Lady Eddison's head snapped up. She stared at the Doctor in shock. “How can you know that?” she breathed.

     The Doctor gave Agatha an apologetic glance as he jumped to his feet. “'Scuse me Agatha, this is my territory.” He turned his attention back to Lady Eddison. “But when you heard that buzzing sound in the dining room, you said "It can't be." Why did you say that?”

     The woman shook her head. “You'd never believe it,” she whispered.

     Agatha looked between the Doctor and Lady Eddison. She seemed confused, but not disbelieving. “The Doctor has opened my mind to believe many things,” she admitted.

     “I told you, Lady Eddison,” Molly said encouragingly, “this is what we're good at. We've seen things you would never even dream of. We'll believe what you have to say. I promised you we'd find your son's killer, but we need your help to do it.”

     Lady Eddison stared at her for several moments, uncertainty gleaming in her eyes. Then she let out a sigh, her shoulders relaxing, and began her story. “It was forty years ago, in the heat of Delhi, late one night. I was alone. And that's when I saw it, a dazzling light in the sky. The next day, he came to the house. Christopher, the most handsome man I'd ever seen. Our love blazed like a wildfire. I held nothing back.” She smiled fondly as she thought about her lover. “And in return ... he showed me the incredible truth about himself. He'd made himself human, to learn about us. I loved him so much, it didn't matter. But he was stolen from me. 1885, the year of the great monsoon. The river Jumna rose up and broke its banks. He was taken at the flood. But Christopher left me a parting gift, a jewel like no other. I wore it always, part of me never forgot.” She closed her eyes. “I kept it close. Always.”

     The Unicorn scoffed. “Just like a man, flashes his family jewels, and you end up with a bun in the oven!” Molly gave her an ugly look, and everyone else ignored her.

     “A 'poor little child,'” Agatha repeated grimly. “Forty years ago, Miss Chandrakala took that newborn babe to an orphanage.”

     “But Professor Peach discovered the truth. He found the child's birth certificate,” Sherlock revealed. “That was why he was killed.”

     Donna's eyes widened as she figured it out. “Oh, that's maiden! Maiden name!”

     “Precisely,” Agatha told her.

     “So, she killed him?” Donna asked.

     “I did not!” Lady Eddison claimed firmly.

     Agatha told Lady Eddison gently, “Miss Chandrakala feared that the Professor had unearthed your secret. She was coming to warn you.”

     “So, she killed her?” Donna asked again.

     “I did not!” the woman snapped again.

     Agatha shook her head. “Lady Eddison is innocent. Because at this point... Doctor!” She turned quickly to face the Time Lord.

     When the writer said his name, he jumped to his feet, taking Agatha and Sherlock's place at the front of the room. The two backed off to let him speak. “Thank you. At this point, when we consider the lies and the secrets, and the key to these events, then we have to consider... it was you, Donna Noble!”

     The ginger companion's eyes widened in shock. “What!? Who did I kill?”

     “No, but you said it, all along. The vital clue. This whole thing is being acted out like a murder mystery. Which means...” he turned and faced the writer, “it was you, Agatha Christie!”

     She stared at him, outraged. “I beg your pardon, sir!”

     “So, she killed them?” Donna asked.

     “No!” the Doctor snapped.

     “Next you'll be saying it was me and Greg,” Molly said in a voice that was both impatient and amused. “Get on with it!”

     “Well, it was John Watson,” the Doctor added, drawing a surprised glance from the doctor as he whirled to face him. “He's the one that asked for a vacation and brought us here. He's the reason we're here at all. And that's how we met Agatha, and that's how we come back to her. She didn't kill them. But she wrote! She wrote those brilliant, clever books. And who’s her greatest admirer? The moving finger points at you...” he turned again, “Lady Eddison!”

     “Don't, leave me alone,” she whispered.

     “So, she did kill them?” Donna asked.

     “No!” the Time Lord repeated. “But just think, last Thursday night, what were you doing?”

     Lady Eddison blinked in surprise. “I was… I was in the library. I was reading my favourite Agatha Christie, thinking about her plots, and how clever she must be. How is that relevant?”

     The Doctor nodded grimly. “Just think. What else happened on Thursday night?” His gaze shifted over to Reverend Golightly, who looked back at him in surprise.

     “I'm sorry?” he asked lightly.

     “You said on the lawn, this afternoon,” he reminded the man. “Last Thursday night, those boys broke into your church.”

     “That’s correct,” the Reverend said warily. “They did. I discovered the two of them. Thieves in the night, I was most perturbed.” He paused, clenching his jaw before continuing firmly, “But, I apprehended them.”

     “Really? A man of God against two strong lads?” the Doctor pressed. “A man in his forties? Or, should I say... forty years old, exactly?”

     “Oh my god!” Lady Eddison gasped as she realized what it meant. Sherlock just watched in silence. He and Agatha had already worked it out. Molly and Lestrade seemed pretty surprised, but they kept silent, watching the exchange with caution.

     His gaze not leaving the Reverend, the Doctor asked, “Lady Eddison, your child, how old would he be now?”

     “Forty, he’s forty!” Lady Eddison exclaimed, staring at the Reverend in shock.

     “Your son has come home to you, Lady Eddison,” Sherlock said grimly.

     The Reverend was starting to get worked up. “This is poppycock!” he snarled.

     “Oh?” the Doctor asked with a raised eyebrow. “You said you were taught by the Christian Fathers. Meaning, you were raised in an orphanage.”

     Lady Eddison was still staring at the Reverend, shaking her head, expression full of shock and wonder and hope. “My son... how can it be?”

     “You found those thieves, Reverend,” the Doctor said quietly, “and you got angry! A proper, deep anger, for the first time in your life, and it broke the genetic lock! You’ve changed! You realized your inheritance! After all these years, you knew who you were.” He turned and took the Firestone back from Agatha, holding it up. “Oh, and then it all kicks off, cos this isn’t just jewel. It’s a Vespiform telepathic recorder! It’s part of you, your brain, your very essence. When you activated, so did the Firestone. It beamed your full identity directly into your mind. And, at the same time it absorbed the works of Agatha Christie, directly from Lady Eddison. It all became part of you. Mechanics of those novels formed a template in your brain. You’ve killed, in this pattern, because that’s what you think the world is. Turns out, we are in the middle of a murder mystery. One of yours, Dame Agatha! ”

     Agatha blinked in surprise. “Dame?” she questioned.

     The Doctor winced. “Oh, sorry, not yet.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. He was working with amateurs.

     “So he killed them?” Donna asked. “Yes? Definitely?”

     “Yes,” the Doctor confirmed.

     The Reverend was clearly angry by now, glaring at the Doctor. He tried to keep his composure as he said stiffly, “Well ...this has certainly been a most entertaining evening.” Everyone stared at him, silent and stunned. His brow furrowed. “Really, you can’t believe any of this surely, Lady Edizzzz...” He trailed off, a _buzz_ entering his voice.

     “I'm sorry, what were you saying?” Lestrade asked with a smirk. “Lady who?”

     “Lady Edizzzzzon...” the Reverend tried again, starting to twitch.

     “Little bit of buzzing there, Vicar?” the Doctor asked innocently.

     “Don't make me angry!” the Reverend snapped. He rose from his seat, looming over the others.

     “Why? We won't like you when you're angry?” John goaded.

     The Reverend was definitely twitching now, the _buzzing_ intensifying as he snarled, “Damn it! You humanzzzz! Worshipping your tribal sky godzzz! I am so much more! That night, the universe exploded in my mind! I wanted to take what wazzz mine. And you, Agatha Christie, with your railway station bookstall romancezzzzz… What'zzzzz to stop me killing you?”

     Lady Eddison started to reach out to him, crying “Dear god, my child!”, but it was too late. A purple light shone as the Reverend began to transform. Everyone started to get up in alarm, backing away from the light.

     “What'zzzz to stop me killing you all?” he screeched as he finished transforming. Once the light cleared, the Reverend was gone, and the Vespiform was back, now completely furious as it faced them all.

     His mother reached out for him, begging, “Forgive me,” but her husband saw the danger.

     “No, no, Clemency, come back!” he cried, pulling his wife away from the Vespiform. “Keep away, keep away my darling!” He, Greeves, the Unicorn, and Lady Eddison backed into a corner together, huddling in terror of the furious alien. It advanced upon them, furious and intent on murder. Sherlock began to back towards his friends, making sure the Doctor, Molly, Lestrade, and John were all close to him.

     Suddenly, a voice spoke above the buzzing. “No! No more murder!” Sherlock saw Agatha Christie standing at the door, the Firestone in her hand. “If my imagination made you kill, then my imagination will find a way to stop you, foul creature!”

     She took off at a run, the time travelers following quickly behind. The Vespiform flew after them, the loud _buzzing_ right behind them. Sherlock and Molly managed to stay right on Agatha's heels, but the others fell behind. She led them to the driveway, where she climbed behind the wheel of one of the cars. Sherlock got into the backseat while Molly got shotgun. “What's the plan?” Molly asked as Agatha started the car.

     “Stop this madness, once and for all,” Agatha told her grimly. She took the car around the front of the house, where the other travelers had just arrived. They started running towards the car, but stopped when the Vespiform burst through the front door, _buzzing_ wildly. Agatha honked the horn to get its attention. “Over here! Come and get me, Reverend!”

     “Agatha, what are you doing?” the Doctor demanded, eyes wide.

     Agatha stared at him solemnly. “If I started this Doctor, then I must stop it!” With that, she took off, leaving the other travelers behind. She was distraught as she drove, crying, “It's all my fault, it's all my fault, it's all my fault.”

     “It's not your fault, Agatha,” Molly told the writer firmly. “You're not the one who killed anybody.” The Vespiform was following them; it dove towards the car, but Agatha swerved and caused it to miss.

     She hardly seemed to have heard Molly. “If I hadn't wrote those books...”

     “You couldn't have known this would happen,” Molly reminded her. She sounded desperate to console the writer. Even Sherlock felt bad for the writer, even if he didn't understand her guilt. She was intelligent and clever enough to solve this case, she didn't deserve the guilt of this. “Please, Agatha, this isn't your fault. You don't have to sacrifice yourself or anything.”

     “It may be the only way to stop this creature,” Agatha said quietly.

     “Agatha,” Sherlock said in a voice that was forced to be calm, “Where are we going?” The writer shook her head and didn't answer. Sherlock and Molly shared a quick, worried look.

     They soon got their answer when they drove up to the edge of a lake. Agatha parked the car, climbing out and holding up the Firestone. Molly and Sherlock got out quickly, standing beside her. A few moments later, another car pulled up, and the rest of their group got out. Agatha stood by the very edge of the lake, holding up the rare stone. “Here I am! The honey in the trap.” The stone began to glow purple, much like the Reverend had earlier. The Vespiform paused, watching her. “Come to me, Vespiform...”

     Sherlock blinked in surprise. “Your minds are still linked. You're controlling it,” he realized.

     “Quite so, Mr. Holmes,” Agatha said, not taking her eyes off the Vespiform. “If I die, then this creature might die with me.”

     “We're not letting that happen,” Molly told her firmly.

     “There's got to be another way,” John agreed.

     The Vespiform started to swoop towards Agatha, but the Doctor got between them, holding his hands up. “Don’t hurt her! You’re not meant to be like this. You’ve got the wrong template in your mind.” The alien stared at him uncomprehendingly.

     “It's not listening,” Donna warned. Without warning, she snatched the Firestone from Agatha's hand, lobbing it into the lake. The Vespiform went in after it with a great splash. It didn't resurface.

     Everyone stared at the water in varying degress of shock and sorrow. “How d'you kill a wasp?” Donna asked sadly. “Drown it. Just like his father.”

     “Donna, that thing couldn't help itself,” the Doctor protested, sounding more sad than angry.

     “But it was the only way to stop him without Agatha being killed,” Lestrade said grimly.

     Agatha sighed. “Death comes as the end... and justice is served.”

     “Murder at the Vicar’s rage,” the Doctor tried. Sherlock gave him a look. He shrugged.”Needs a bit of work.”

     “Just one mystery left, Doctor.” Agatha turned to him, eyes full of wonder – and fear. “Who exactly are you?” The Doctor shrugged, but before he could give any kind of answer, Agatha let out a sharp gasp of pain. She began to collapse, but Sherlock and Molly caught her, helping her down. Sherlock stepped back as John came over to examine her.

     “Her pulse is eratic,” he announced. “I can't tell what's wrong.”

     The Doctor's eyes widened. “Oh, it’s the Firestone! It’s part of the Vespiform’s mind. It’s dying and it’s connected to Agatha!” She was starting to glow purple, just like the Vespiform. Sherlock began to fear the worst, but a few moments later, the glow stopped, and Agatha slumped against Molly, unconscious but alive.

     “She's okay,” Molly said in shock. “She's going to be fine.”

     “He let her go,” the Doctor realized. “Right at the end, the Vespiform chose to save someone’s life.” He looked down at Agatha. “Oh, of course! The amnesia! Wiped her mind of everything that happened. The wasp, the murders…”

     Lestrade looked down at the woman with a frown. “And us. She won't remember meeting us, or helping us save the world,” he said sadly.

     The Doctor nodded. “Yeah, but we’ve solved another riddle. The mystery of Agatha Christie. And tomorrow morning, her car gets found by the side of the lake. A few days later, she turns up in hotel at Harrogate, with no idea of what just happened. No one'll ever know.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     They were back outside the TARDIS, waiting to go back home. They had just finished dropping Agatha and the car off in front of the hotel. She had walked off, looking back at them once with a look of vague confusion before leaving.

     Donna sighed. “A shame she'll never remember,” she said sadly. What an awful fate for someone to suffer, not remembering doing something like that. “And no one will ever know. But wait. Lady Eddison, the Colonel, and all the staff … what about them?”

     “Shameful story. They'd never talk of it,” the Doctor explained. “Too British. While the Unicorn does a bunk, back to London town. She could never even say she was there.”

     “What about Agatha?” Molly asked. “What's her life like after this?”

     The Doctor grinned. “Oh, it's great! Met another man, married again. Saw the world. Wrote and wrote and wrote.”

     Molly grimaced. “Sort of wish I'd gotten a book signed by her now. Guess I missed the chance.”

     Out of nowhere, Lestrade pulled a small book out of his jacket. It was a copy of “Murder on the Orient Express.” “It's one of her best,” he told Molly. “I think you'll like it. I made sure she didn't see the title since she hasn't written it yet, but she was more than happy to sign it.”

     Molly stared at it in surprise. “When'd you manage that then?”

     “Before dinner,” he explained. Molly grinned, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. Donna rolled her eyes, but in truth, she was happy for her friend.

     The Doctor shook his head. “You know, I don't think she ever really forgot,” he said. He dashed into the TARDIS, leaving Donna and the others to follow curiously. “Great mind like that, some of the details kept bleeding through. All the stuff her imagination could use. Like, Miss Marple!”

     Donna sighed regretfully. “I should have made her sign a contract.”

     The Time Lord pulled part of the grating up, rummaging for something under it. “And, where is it, where is it, hold on…” He searched for a bit, pulling out a few odds and ends, before coming up with a book. He handed it to Donna. It was a copy of “Death in the Clouds,” and to Donna's shock, there was a giant wasp on the cover.

     “She did remember!” Donna gasped.

     The Doctor grinned. “Somewhere in the back of her mind, it all lingered. And that’s not all. Look at the copyright page.”

     Donna turned to it. Her eyes bugged. “Facsimile edition, published in the year… five billion?!”

     “People never stop reading them. She is the best selling novelist, of all time. See? It was a happy ending after all.” He jumped to his feet, turning to Sherlock and John. “Speaking of endings, I guess that's the end of your vacation then. Back to London? Or do you want to stay for a bit? There's always room on the TARDIS.”

     Sherlock and John shared a quick look. Donna was surprised to see the uncertainty in Sherlock's eyes, and the hesitation in John's. Something was up with those two. John shook his head. “Sorry, no, we've got our own life to get back to. We've got a job waiting for us, actually. Thanks for the trip though, Doctor. It was... interesting.” John was grinning as he said it, so Donna knew he felt the same strange thrill of adventure the rest of them did.

     One by one, the TARDIS travelers began to say their goodbyes to the crime-solving pair. As Donna pulled Sherlock into a hug, she told him, “I will find out why you came here, got it?”

     He grinned at that. “I look forward to that, Noble. Until next time.”

     The Doctor headed to the console, Donna following him. First, they'd drop off Sherlock and John. Then it was back to their life, back to the stars and the universe. And Donna wouldn't have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK STARS I'M FINALLY DONE. *crawls off to bed because it's 2 friggin' AM and I'm tired from work* It's really late, so a lot of this is rushed and crappy, but oh well. It's done.
> 
> Anyway, yes, I finally finished The Unicorn and the Wasp. Next up is an original story. Fun fact; I was originally setting this in Ancient Rome, basing it off the knowledge I gained from playing AC: Revelations, as sad as that sounds. I was going to play it right before writing this, but my roommate accidentally took all the Assassin's Creed games with her, so I can't do that now. So I changed an entire episode's plot because I couldn't play a video game. :P
> 
> If you have any questions regarding the mysterious end of this chapter - ask all you want, but don't expect an answer. I'm not giving anything away just yet.


	59. Council of the Seven Rings: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The TARDIS makes a crash landing in an interesting location.

_Thud!_ The TARDIS finally clattered to the ground, shuddering to a landing. Everyone had been thrown to the ground by the the force of their landing. Lestrade groaned, his shoulder and back aching from how the turbulence had flung him onto the grating. He could see the other travelers doing the same all around the console.

As the group started getting their footing back, Donna groaned, “What the bloody hell was that?”

The Doctor leaned on the console for support as he got back to his feet. Once he was standing, he laid a hand on the console, staring at it with a furrowed brow. “I'm not sure,” he admitted. “Almost like there was some kind of barrier blocking us out.”

“But we got through it,” Molly said. “We've landed somewhere, at least.” She glanced warily at the door as she rubbed her shoulder. “This should be interesting.” There didn't even need to be a discussion about whether they were going outside to check out where they had landed. They all knew the drill. Adventure first, ask questions later.

A few years ago, Lestrade would've thought that kind of life wouldn't be his kind of thing. He was a cop, he did things by procedure. Find a crime, examine the scene, take the case step by step. The erratic, unexplained ways that Sherlock did his investigations had given him migraines. But life on the TARDIS seemed to come with this sort of love of adventure and the thrill of danger, and a disregard for any sort of rule or “keep-out” sign. He wasn't sure whether that made them all brave or stupid. Probably both, but he didn't care. He loved this life. After almost four months of TARDIS travel, he was so much more at home in the TARDIS than he had ever expected to feel. It wasn't just Molly, either. It was the whole thing. The Doctor and Donna, the time travel, the danger, the excitement, the opportunity to save lives. Somehow, it all added up to a feeling of home stronger than anything he'd felt at Scotland Yard. It felt right to be here.

Lestrade was shaken out of his thoughts when the Doctor spoke again. “Right. Let's go see who's so eager to keep out visitors.” He and Molly started for the door, leaving Donna and Lestrade to follow behind. Lestrade was the last out the door, so he shut it behind him, hearing the _click_ as it locked.

Once it locked, he turned away from the door, only to be greeted with a very interesting scene. The room they were in looked like a business meeting room like any on Earth. It had a long, round table in the center of the room, and four white walls with a single door and no windows. A black screen covered a great stretch of one of the walls, like some sort of futuristic TV.

There were seven chairs around the table, and in those chairs sat seven aliens. The travelers stared at them, and they stared back, showing varying degrees of shock. One of them, a red insect-like alien, stood. "How did you get in here?" she demanded, voice sharp with shock.

The Doctor shrugged, grinning disarmingly at the aliens. "Oh, we were just knocking around, and we landed here," he said dismissively. "The real question is, what's going on in here?"

A pure white-skinned, humanoid alien's expression contorted in anger. "Is this some sort of joke?" she demanded. "Nothing can get through this room's defenses." She whirled on another alien, a gray-green, three-legged creature. "I bet this was you. First you steal from my people, then you beam these jokers in here in the middle of an official Council meeting."

The three-legged alien stood immediately, his deep voice bristling with anger. "Your accusations grow more ridiculous by the minute! If you actually think that I brought -"

"Enough!" the red insect- like alien snapped, her wings buzzing with anger as he spoke. The two aliens fell silent, though they still glared at each other as the three-legged one sat. Once the fight was diffused, the red alien turned to face the Doctor and his companions. "I'll ask you again," she said in a stern tone. "Who are you, and how did you get here?"

"We're just travelers," Molly said calmly. "The Doctor wasn't lying, we got here by mistake. We didn't mean to break into anything."

"I'm the Doctor," the Time Lord added, "and this is Molly, Donna, and Lestrade."

The red alien's piercing gaze moved slowly over all of them. Finally, she nodded. "Alright."

"What?" a round, rock-like creature demanded. "That's it? You just believe them?"

The red alien turned her stern gaze on this new alien. "I see no reason not to. They're clearly from another world, and nothing in this meeting would benefit an outsider. Why would they deliberately sneak in?"

"They could be planning an invasion!" the round creature snarled. "This meeting would give them crucial information about our weaknesses."

"And what would an invasion earn them?" the red alien asked scathingly. "A dying world with nothing to offer. An invasion would be pointless."

The three-legged alien's eyes narrowed. "Very well. They're not invading. Now that that's sorted, let's send them on their way."

"We can't do that," the red alien argued. "This room is supposed to stay completely sealed until the meeting is over. No one comes in, no one goes out."

"Well clearly someone already got in," the white alien snapped, "so let's send them back out again."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "If I may?" Reluctantly, the aliens fell silent, turning to look at the Doctor. He gestured back to the TARDIS as he explained, "My ship got through your defenses once, but it took a lot out of her. I'm not sure I'd want to try it again until all your defenses have been raised and it's safe for us to pass."

"That's not our problem," the white alien snapped.

The Time lord stated at him calmly, raising an eyebrow. "But what is your problem, I wonder?" he said evenly. "Clearly you don't want strangers to hear about it."

"Let us stay," Donna added. "Maybe we can help. We're good at this sort of thing."

The red alien gave her an evaluating glance. "I don't know how much help you can be," she told the ginger woman bluntly, "but we don't have a choice. You and your ship will have to stay until the meeting is adjourned." That almost sounded threatening, but Lestrade wasn't worried. They wanted to be here anyway. And if these aliens tried too hard to keep them here, they could just pop off in the TARDIS.

**SCENEBREAK**

There were only six chairs (and one water tank), so the Doctor retrieved four chairs from the TARDIS for himself and his companions to use. Once they were all seated, the red alien announced, "The meeting has officially begun."

Donna was curious about what they were going to hear here. What was this whole meeting thing about? And would they really be able to help? Sure, the Doctor would probably find a way to help, but it was never a sure thing.

The red alien continued, "We will begin with the introductions. I am Dree of the Eerickians. I have been designated the leader of the council for the duration of this meeting." Dree was a tall, thin red alien with thin insect-like limbs, a lower abdomen, insect-like wings, two pairs of legs, large black eyes, pincers, and two pairs of large horns on top of her head with a smaller pair on her cheeks. She wore the top half of a black suit and tie.

The alien to her right spoke next, the one in the tank. "I am Boran of the Saltwater Splashtails." He was a seal-like creature with a seal-like head and large rounded ears, fins with finger-like appendages, and a longer, mermaid-like tail with an upper fin like a fish, and a round finned tail like a fish.

The gray three-legged creature was next. "I am Istil of the Northern Bungars." He was a stout, yellow-greenish gray creature with three legs like a tripod, a squashed face, three dark brown eyes, and small rounded ears. He wore a black suit and pants and a tie.

Another three-legged creature, very similar to Istil, spoke. "I'm Par of the Southern Bungars." Par was almost identical to Istil, except she was a paler shade of yellow-green-gray, and she had light green eyes instead of brown.

The white alien was next in line. "I am Wartonin, of the Gricks." She was a humanoid with pure, snow-white skin, one large black eye with four smaller black eyes surrounding it, elf-like ears, and a blunt nose. She too wore a suit and tie with black pants and shoes.

The round creature spoke next. Glaring at the Doctor and his companions, she announced, "I am Shreeke of the Mysts." Shreeke was a small, hip-height humanoid that was totally round in shape with a gray, tough, rock-like hide.

The last to speak was a long, centipede-like creature that hadmt spoke before. Quietly, he told everyone, "I am Mou of the Winkins." He was a caterpillar-like creature with multiple body segments, centipede-like legs, arms with clawed and segmented hands, and a head with horns lining the top of the head and pincers.

Everyone looked expectantly at the Doctor. He looked up in surprise before clearing his throat and giving a slight nod. "Oh, hello. I'm the Doctor, of the Time Lords." That didn't get any kind of reaction, so presumably this wasn't one of those planets that had heard of the Time Lords. Donna wasn't sure how the Doctor felt about that, but more often than not, that tended to be a good thing.

Molly lifted her chin proudly. "I am Molly Hooper of the humans." She said her name and status with such pride. She really had come a long way from where she was when Donna had met her. A small, treacherous voice in Donna's head whispered, _If only I could do the same._

Lestrade cleared his throat. "Greg Lestrade, also of the humans."

Dree's pinschers clicked curiously. "Humans traveling with an alien. An oddity. I thought your kind tended to keep to your own."

Donna blinked in surprise. What time period were they in? She and Lestrade swapped a confused glance before he shrugged. "I guess so," was all he said.

The ginger companion felt a jolt of surprise when everyone turned to look at her. "Donna Noble of the humans." For a small moment, she wished it sounded more impressive.

Dree gave a sharp nod. "Very good. The Council of the Seven Rings has come to order."

**SCENEBREAK**

Molly blinked in surprise. _Council of the Seven Rings?_ Aloud she joked, "What is this, Lord of the Rings?"

The aliens - and humans - stared at her questioningly. "You know. 'Three rings for the elven kings under the sky, seven for the dwarf lords in their halls of stone...'" She trailed off as the majority of her listeners continued to look confused. Only the Doctor and Greg seemed to get it. She sighed. _Too many people watch the movie without reading the book these days._

Greg at least had gotten the joke. He grinned. "Does that make this the Fellowship of the Ring or a bunch of dwarfs?"

The Doctor, however, seemed to be thinking along different lines. "Oh! Council of the Seven Rings, I've heard of you lot!" He looked at each of the members, grinning widely. "I should've realized it earlier. Are we really that far into the Gorra region? I was aiming a bit more south, but eh." 

His companions exchanged confused glances. After a moment, Greg spoke. "Care to fill us in, Doctor?" Molly had been about to ask the same thing. 

The Doctor leaned forest in his chair, his arms gesturing wildly as he explained, "The Council of the Seven Rings meets on Planet Ruutuun only when there's a dire, planet-wide need. The seven nations each send a political representative, and together they decide the course of action the planet will take. Oh, this is brilliant, I never thought I'd actually get to witness a Council. They're so rare, and recordings of them are sketchy at best. I've read about them, but I could never pin down a solid date to try and visit."

Donna looked between him and the aliens questioningly. "Yeah, but what about the Seven Rings bit? Have they all got a ring or something?"

"No, it's the planet. The planet has seven rings around it, like Saturn, only there's seven distinct rings. Since there's also seven nations, the name fits."

Molly was interested in the Doctor's explanation, and the implications it had about this meeting, but Dree seemed less than enthused. She fixed the Doctor with a cold glare, her tone stern as she said, "I'm sure we all appreciate being told our own history by outsiders. However, we have a meeting to get one with." The _"so shut it,_ didn't need to be said.

The Doctor leaned back in his chair again. "Right, yeah, sorry about that. So, what's this whole meeting about then?"

Dree sighed. "The drought. We have come to discuss the drought plaguing our planet, and how we may survive it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I edited the Doctor spouting out stuff about the Council so it makes more sense.
> 
> I'm sorry about this chapter being so disgustingly short, but there's a reason for it. This chapter throws a lot of new information out at once, and I didn't want to cram too much into the chapter. Take a bit to read over this chapter and take all the information in, because there's a lot of new characters to meet who will all be important. I hope I did a good enough job of introducing them.


	60. Council of the Seven Rings: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Council of the Seven Rings begins its discussions.

      _Drought?_ Lestrade leaned forward curiously, waiting for an explanation.

     There was a huge, black screen on all four walls. Dree pressed a button on the table in front of her, and suddenly the screens clicked on, displaying a map of dome sorts. The map showed areas in various colors, yellows and greens and blues, with a key showing that the colors indicated rainfall per year. Dree cleared her throat, her pincers clicking together softly as she spoke. "This was our planet this time last year."

     She pressed another button. This time, it showed vast patches of red, orange, and yellow. "And this is the most recent study," Dree finished grimly. Lestrade didn't know what all the numbers added up to exactly in terms of loss of rain, but he understood the implication.

     She pulled up another screen, this time showing some kind of document. "The report declaring this an official drought was filed four months ago. Since then, there has been very little rain, and all water sources appear to be shrinking."

     The Doctor frowned, looking at the screen curiously. "Any idea what's causing the drought?"

     Dree nodded. "A natural event," she explained. "Some sort of disruption in the water cycle. I'm not a scientist of any sort, but I understand the consequences of this event, and I understand what will happen if we don't act."

     "So what is all this?" Donna asked. "Some sort of hug the trees, be nice to nature, save the rainforest campaign?"

     Dree shook her head. "That is for the PR department. We're not here to appeal to the public. This is official business. We're here to determine how each nation should ration its water, and who has a claim to what water." Her gaze traveled across the humans as she explained, "My species lives in a desert, we eat food that needs very little water to grow and we can go months without a drink. As such, I have been made the leader of the Council for the duration of this meeting, as I come from the species with the least bias in this situation."

     She glanced back at her fellow aliens as she said, "We will now begin opening statements. Everyone will get a chance to state their position and their wishes before we begin our general discussion."

     Boran spoke first. He poked his head above the water in his tank and placing his front flippers on the edge of the tank to hold himself up. "My ocean is between the lands of the Gricks and Northern Bungars," he explained to the humans. "Our borders have receded due to the lack of rain. But the real problem is that our prey is changing its migration patterns. The changes in the water, and the way the Gricks and Northern Bungars are poaching our water is making them flee to different waters. Some of them are dying. There's been too many changes in the makeup of the water." He glared firmly at Istil, the representative of the Northern Bungars. "Your people have been taking more than your fair share of the water. We're willing to share our resources, but this poaching isn't helping anyone. It needs to stop."

     The Splashtail's opening statement seemed to ruffle some feathers in the Council. Lestrade could see Istil's expression was dark, and Dree was staring at him with narrowed eyes with the others whispered. Istil cleared his throat, glaring around the table before speaking. "My nation has been hit hard by the drought. The ocean is our only hope of making it through this. We need to figure out a fairer way to share its waters. My nation has the high test population. The Council should take that into consideration and allow us a greater share of the water."

     That _definitely_ got a reaction. Boran seemed pretty angry, but Wartonin, representative of the Gricks, looked positively livid. Her large black eye and four smaller eyes smoldered with rage as she glared across the table at the Bungar. Lestrade wondered whether they were going to get through the opening statements without someone getting decked, forget the whole meeting.

      Par of the Southern Bungars was next. She, at least, seemed more tired than angry. "Our nation is suffering," she announced grimly. "Sickness and death and fighting. Our river has become poisoned with disease. We live farther down south than the Gricks, Splashtails, and Northern Bungars, our territory borders a river we share with the Mysts. Our government has debated, and we wish to implore other planets to help us. Our planet is dying, and if we don't get outside help, we will all die with it."

     The alien glanced at the humans as she spoke. Lestrade blinked in surprise. Did she think they were the outside help that her planet needed? Well, it wasn't too far of a stretch. They often were the saviors of other planets, but it wasn't exactly like they had huge stashes of water at the ready. Would they really be the help Par was looking for?

     Wartonin of the Gricks was next. As the white-skinned alien glared at Istil, Lestrade remembered that her people were neighbors with Istil's, and with the Splashtails. "The Southern Bungars have been stealing water that rightfully belongs to my people," she snapped, her black eyes narrowed with anger. "They're thieves and cowards. The water should be split equally, 50/50."

     "But that's absurd!" Istil exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "My nation has almost twice the population of yours. A 50/50 split wouldn't be fair in the least!"

     Dree's pinschers clicked and wings buzzed threateningly. "Mr. Istil, sit _down_ ," she ordered firmly. "You will have your chance to speak later." Istil glared at her, but obeyed, sitting without a word.

     Wartonin glared at Istil. "I won't have a thief telling me what's fair and what isn't," she said coldly. "Our nation is due to its fair share, and it will take it by force if necessary."

     "Meaning what?" Istil demanded. Dree gave him a warning glare, but he wasn't looking at her.

     "Meaning, Istil, that we will go to war if we have to," Wartonin replied grimly.

     That brought the room to complete silence. Lestrade glanced at his companions, trying to gauge their reactions. The Doctor had the appearance of detached curiosity, but Lestrade could see the hard anger in his eyes at the mention of war. Molly had tensed, looking between Istil and Wartonin warily.

     Donna, however, looked curious, giving Istil a long look. Lestrade wondered what was on her mind. He had been on the TARDIS for a while now, and he and Donna got along pretty well, but sometimes he felt like she was holding back somehow. Like she only wanted to be seen as a loud, brash woman and nothing else. She didn't always like to share her thoughts on the alien crisis of the week.

     After several moments of silence, Shreeke spoke. "My nation had suffered too," he said stiffly. "As Par said, the river is poisoned, although we have not been as badly effected by disease as our neighbors." His eyes narrowed. "But our problems are our problems. We should deal with them ourselves, not ask others for help and put ourselves further in debt. We want the Council to push for better rationing and distribution of water, and for more widespread water treatment plants."

     The last to speak was Mou of the Winkins. He cleared his throat nervously, glancing around at the other Council members before speaking. "My nation lives in the desert, to the east of Dree's people," he explained with a quick look at the humans. "But we can't live on sparse desert vegetation, and we don't last as long without drinking. We rely heavily on irrigation and imported water. But now all the other nations are too busy with their own problems to send us any. I'm begging the Council, please send aid to the Winkins, anything you can spare."

     Dree glanced around the table, making sure everyone was done, before clearing her throat. "We will now begin general discussion," she announced. "We will continue general discussion for the rest of this meeting, which will continue until our discussions bring us to a decision that satisfies all parties."

**SCENEBREAK**

     "The Southern Bungars must be made to pay for their actions," Wartonin snapped immediately.

      _Well, that didn't take long,_ Donna thought to herself. It was clear the Grick had been itching for a fight since the start. She couldn't entirely blame him, what with his country's water being stolen and all, but she had a feeling it wasn't going to end well.

     Sure enough, Istil reacted immediately, bursting out, "We never stole a drop, Wartonin! Maybe you should take a closer look at your own people if you wish to see thieves

     Wartonin's pure white skin started getting red from anger. "How dare you - "

     "No, how dare _you_. Threatening war at a time like this? It's not bad enough the whole planet's dying of drought, you have to add fighting to the mix?"

     The Grick's expression was dark. "I'll do whatever it takes to protect my people from thieves," he said.

     Dree gave Istil a sharp glare. "I've heard rumors of Southern Bungar thievery recently as well," she said. "Are they true?"

     Istil bristled. "Of course not!”

     Dree regarded him with narrowed eyes. “They better not be,” she warned him sharply. “We're all going through hard times. I will not tolerate any thieves. If I find out that the Gricks' accusations are true, the consequences will be severe for your people. Understood?”

     The Southern Bungar huffed, glaring at Dree for a few moments before looking away. “Understood,” he said gruffly.

     “That's not good enough!” Wartonin snarled. Donna was surprised how worked up about this he was. Well, yeah, his people were dying and everything, but he was just going after this guy instead of trying to talk about an actual solution.

     “Wartonin, that's enough!” Dree snapped. The white alien whirled to glare at her, but she was unmoving, her pincers clicking warningly. “I will not tolerate any fighting, either. Do I make myself clear?”

     Wartonin glared at her, but finally gave a short jerk of his head. The Doctor glanced at him before addressing the rest of the room. “I really think you should be focusing on what to do with the water now, not who's been doing what with it already. I mean, that's the point of this meeting, yeah? To change how the water's being distributed?”

     Donna saw Mou and Par nod, but before either could comment, Shreeke replied dryly, “How fitting, an outsider's trying to tell us how to run your own planet.”

     The Doctor's eyebrows raised. “I'm not trying to tell you how to run anything,” he said evenly.

     Ignoring him, Shreeke turned to Dree. “See, this is exactly what we don't need,” he said. “Our problems are our problems. We don't need outsiders interfering.”

     “Is this prejudice, Shreeke?” Par asked, a slight bite in her tone.

     Shreeke gave her a pointed look. “Not prejudice. Practicality. Any aid we get from other sources will have to be paid back and then some. After the Bungar Wars, we're in enough debt as it is.”

     “And saving the planet from crippling drought isn't worth a little debt?” Par challenged.

     “We're not talking a few coins between friends,” Shreeke snapped. “This is a serious problem. We can't just turn to other planets every time we need help.”

     “And we can't just sit here and watch our own planet die,” Boran countered. “Not if there's something we can do about it.”

     Shreeke crossed his arms over his chest. At hip height, he was the shortest alien in the room, but he still managed to be imposing as he said, “If we get any further in debt, it won't matter whether we pull ourselves out of this drought. We still won't have the money or resources to feed ourselves.”

     “Then what _do_ you propose, Mr. Shreeke?” Dree asked stiffly.

     He straightened, chin lifted before saying, “We need to focus on water distribution with what we already have.”

     Dree dipped her head. “Sounds fair enough.”

     Boran seemed to jump on that. “Yes, good, water distribution. Let's talk about that. Because all we have right now is a jumbled mess of everyone taking what they think they deserve. We need to figure out how to divide everything fairly, and how to do it without disturbing my habitat too much."

     "The ocean should be split equally," Wartonin said immediately. "An equal share for us and the Bungars. We won't accept anything less."

     "So you'd let my people starve because you think it's fairer to have equal shares than it is to have shares that make sense?" Istil challenged.

     Wartonin glared at him. "Seems fair enough to me."

     "I think you're forgetting there's some of us who _don't_ live right next Tia water source," Mou said tightly. It was the first time the Winkin had spoken since general discussion had begun. He seemed like a quiet sort of thing, but even he had a bit of an edge to his voice.

     Wartonin gave the Winkin a disdainful glare. "Oh look, he speaks," she said sarcastically. "And what claim do you have to the water?"

     To Donna's surprise, it was Shreeke who came to Mou's rescue. "The same claim any of us have, Wartonin," he told her. "He lives on this planet, doesn't he?"

     Mou glared at Wartonin, adding, "We're not dead weight. I seem to remember your people leaning pretty heavily on mine a few decades back when you went into debt."

     "And none of that helps us now," Wartonin reminded him. "I can't focus on past favors if -"

     "I'm not asking you to," Mou said evenly. “All I'm asking for is a little common decency so my people don't starve.”

     “I look out for me and mine,” Wartonin said grimly. “It's not my job to spoonfeed every disease-ridden Winkin on the streets.”

     “Then what are we even doing here?” Shreeke challenged. “If you don't care about any nation but your own, what's the point of even coming here? We're here to discuss how to solve every nation's problem, not just yours.”

     Wartonin let out an impatient _huff_. “I'm here to make sure my nation doesn't get screwed over here,” she said.

     “And the rest of us can go die in a ditch, is that it?” Boran demanded. “Remember, it's my water you're talking about. You rely on it for drinking, but we rely on it for everything. It's our _home_.”

     “That's your problem, not mine,” Wartonin told him.

     Molly's eyes narrowed. “Are you seriously being this selfish?” she demanded. Donna looked at her in surprise. Other than the Doctor, the travelers hadn't really weighed in yet. They'd just been sitting back and letting the natives sort it out between themselves. Or fight it out between themselves, that was probably more accurate. “Your whole planet is dying, not just your own nation. You're going to have to work together to figure out how to get through this.”

     Wartonin glared at her and opened her mouth to retort, but Shreeke beat her to it. “What do you care?” he snapped. “You're an outsider. You're not even supposed to be here.”

     “Yeah, well, we are, so get used to it,” Molly retorted.

     “We're just trying to help,” Lestrade said. “That's what we do, we help people. It's kind of our thing.”

     Shreeke snorted. “At what cost?”

     “Shreeke, leave them alone,” Part said stiffly. “They're trying to help, and heavens know we could use it right now.”

     “Shut it, Par,” Shreeke snapped. “The Northern Bungars have always been soft about this sort of thing. You'd give up half the planet if you could save a single child from starving.”

     “I just want to stop the immediate damage,” Par said, a bit of heat in her voice. “Is there something so wrong with that?”

     “Enough,” Dree said firmly. To Donna's surprise, the Eerekian glanced over at her. “You're the only one who hasn't spoken yet, Donna. What do you think.”

     Donna's eyes widened. “Me?” At Dree's nod, she tried to think, turning over everything that had been said so far. Finally, she said, “Fighting isn't helping anyone. If these guys keep yammering on, they're just going to rip each other's heads off.”

     “How dare you tell us how to conduct our own affairs!” Shreeke interrupted.

     Donna felt a flash of anger. “I'll tell you plenty more in a minute, mate,” she snapped. Turning back to Dree, she continued, “I think we need a break.” There were a few questions she had for some of the counselors, and the best way to do that was to talk to them alone, so she wouldn't start a huge fight again..

     Dree looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “Very well. We will resume in two hours.” There was a bit of grumbling, but no one spoke out. Even Wartonin and Shreeke seemed to realize that just shouting at each other wasn't helping anyone.

     Donna let out a breath. That was taken care of, then. But there was still a lot of talking to come. And would any amount of talking ever convince these people to stop fighting? Or would there be war after all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry for the delay. Again. Wow, this story really is taking forever to write. But I'll reach the end, I promise. I won't ever give up on this thing. I've put too much time and effort in it already, and I love writing these characters.
> 
> Anyway, the reason I took so long to write this chapter was because I spent a good month working on a personal project. Hopefully one day I'll be able to announce what it is, but for now, I'm keeping it to myself.
> 
> Sooooo, this chapter kinda sucks. Oops. I'll try to do better with the next one. Anyway, I'm tired, so I'm off to bed, but I'll try to update again sooner. I'll try to get at least one more chapter done before I leave for college.


	61. Council of the Seven Rings: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna and Lestrade talk about the Council and the drought.

     Since they weren't allowed to leave the room, there wasn't really anywhere for the councilors to go during the break. Mostly they moved their chairs around, finding their own space to ignore each other in. There was still a tense sort of feeling in the air, as though the minute anyone started talking again, they'd all break out into fighting.

     The Doctor and Molly were busy asking Dree more about the drought and the science behind it, so Lestrade decided to pull Donna aside and see what she was up to. She was the one who had suggested the break, and Lestrade had a feeling she had more than pausing the fighting in mind.

     He approached Donna, who was still sitting in the same chair, chatting quietly with Par. "Want to take a walk in the TARDIS quick?" he asked.

     Donna looked up at him in surprise, then shrugged. "Sure." She turned back to Par, saying, "Sorry, can we continue this later?"

     The Bungar nodded. "Of course. Thank you, Donna." The ginger companion stood, following Lestrade into the TARDIS.

     They made their way through the doors into the empty console room. It was a bit odd seeing it like that. Usually when Lestrade was in the console room, he was with all four travelers, ready to run off on some new mad-cap adventure. There was a strange serenity in the emptiness now, and the quiet _humming_ of the engine.

     Donna seemed to be thinking on similar lines. "Odd how quiet it is, innit?" she asked, glancing around the interior as she walked toward the console. She leaned back against it, arms crossed over her chest. "It's always so mad in here, it kinda makes you forget how beautiful it is."

     Lestrade leaned beside her, staring at the great doming walls of the console rooms, and the lights and colors. It really was beautiful. "An odd home we've made for ourselves here," he joked.

     Donna sighed. "Yeah. A home." Lestrade looked at her questioningly, but she didn't explain. Instead, she asked, "How long do you think you'll stay here, Greg?" The Doctor and Donna had both started getting used to using his first name.

     The question surprised Lestrade. "How long?" He hadn't really thought about it that much. In passing, yeah, but not at length. He shrugged. “I'm not really sure. I haven't exactly planned it out.”

     He started thinking about it. How long did he really plan to stay on the TARDIS? When Molly had first made the offer, he'd thought about it as something temporary, traveling around time and space for a bit before getting back to real life. But now he was dating Molly, and Donna and the Doctor were his friends, and this life was starting to feel more real than anything else in his life. But was it for forever? It still didn't feel permanent, somehow. Like one day the TARDIS would be done with him and he'd go back to hunting down the criminals of London.

     In the end, he just shrugged. “I really don't know.” He glanced at Donna. “What about you?”

     “Me?” Donna glanced around the ship with a wistful expression. “Oh, I'd stay here forever if I could. I love it here. I've never felt so, so _alive_ , so important. It's like this is the life I've always been meant for, and the rest of my life was just leading up to it, you know what I mean?”

     “Yeah,” Lestrade agreed.

     She sighed. “But the thing is, the Doctor and Molly, and even you and Sherlock, you've got this group thing. You've all had these adventures together and faced certain death and all that, and you all belong together. It's like... it's like I'm a puzzle piece, yeah? And I fit into this life perfectly. But there's plenty of other puzzle pieces out there that fit just as well, and really, how can you tell one from another, and in the end...”

     “...you think we don't need you,” Lestrade finished. Sympathy for the ginger woman hit him hard. She acted tough and brash like nothing could hurt her, but Lestrade knew that there was a lot of uncertainty under that. He hadn't realized she was so unsure of her place on the TARDIS, though.

     Donna nodded. “Molly and the Doctor have been traveling together for three years,” she pointed out. “You and Sherlock have known both of them for longer. I just feel like I'm the third wheel. Well, fourth wheel. You get the idea.”

     Lestrade tried to find the right words to reply to that. How could he convince Donna that she was as fundamental a part of the TARDIS life as any of the others? “Technically, you've known the Doctor the longest,” he pointed out. “Anyway, it doesn't matter. You're our friend, Donna. You're a part of this team. How long you've been here doesn't affect that.”

     The ginger woman gave a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. “Thanks,” she said quietly.

     Lestrade cleared his throat. The silence was starting to drag on, so he decided to change the subject. “It's a bit odd, feeling like I'm stepping in Sherlock Holmes' shoes here. It's not like I didn't do that plenty back on Earth, but here it just fees weird, knowing that Sherlock was on the TARDIS first and knows more about living here.”

     Donna smirked, a genuine show of amusement this time. “Is it bad that I actually miss him?” she asked.

     The former cop shook his head, grinning. “You and John Watson,” he said. “I dunno what it is with you two, how much you can stand to be around him.”

     She laughed. “You're the one who traveled with him for a year!”

     “True,” Lestrade conceded, grinning. “I guess we're friends now, but it took a year of constantly being in his presence to even get that far. You and John just sort of impressed him. That's a feat of itself.” He shook his head. “Anyway, that's not what I wanted to ask you about. What do you think about the Council so far?”

     Donna shrugged. “I think they're going to rip each other's heads off if something doesn't change soon.” She paused, then continued, “Did you see Istil's face though?”

     “What about it?”

     “Guilt,” she answered. “He looked guilty when Dree was lecturing him. I think the Bungars really have been stealing from the ocean.”

     Lestrade tried to remember Istil's expression, but he hadn't been paying as much attention to it. “Well, that's great. If Wartonin finds out, she'll declare war on the Southern Bungars.”

     “We can't let that happen,” Donna said. "I mean, even if they've been stealing, we can't let a whole country suffer for it."

     "So... what? We keep this to ourselves?" Lestrade asked. "Somehow, I doubt this is gonna stay under wraps, whether we say it or not. Wartonin's out for blood, and Istil only has his word that the Southern Bungars haven't been stealing."

     The ginger woman looked thoughtful. "I was talking to Par," she said slowly. "She wants to contact other planets for help."

     Lestrade glanced at her. "You really think that's the best idea?" he asked dubiously. "You heard Shreeke. They're in plenty of debt as it is.”

     "Yeah, but that can't be worse than the whole planet slowly dying." Donna glanced at the door. "I kind of want to talk to Shreeke. See if he's willing to bend on the issue."

     The former cop laughed. "I'm sure you'll have no trouble persuading him." If Donna could shout Sherlock Holmes into respecting her, an alien would be no problem. He knew Donna well enough to know that she'd push Shreeke until he bent - or broke. She was pretty persistent.

     Donna grinned. "Probably not," she agreed.

     Lestrade tipped his head thoughtfully. "While you're doing that, I think I'll have a chat with Wartonin. Maybe we can head off impending doom for the Bungars."

     The woman snorted. "Here's hoping. That's what we do. Saving worlds, helping people, the TARDIS business. We screw this up, we're out of a job."

     "Best not screw up then," Lestrade said with a grin.

**SCENEBREAK**

     They both straightened, and started heading for the door. Before they reached it, Molly and the Doctor passed through the door, heading towards the console. They looked surprised to see their friends there. "Oh, I was wondering where you two had gotten to," the Doctor commented as he and Molly walked past them towards the console.

     Donna and Lestrade turned away from the door to face the other travelers. The Doctor was flipping some dials and switches on the console, while Molly was adjusting the monitor, looking at the screen. Donna raised an eyebrow. "Going somewhere?" She'd thought they weren't allowed to leave the room.

     "Nope," Molly answered distractedly. "We're trying to find out if there's a way to help get some rain for these people."

     Lestrade blinked in surprise. "You can do that?"

     "Theoretically," the Doctor replied. Once he was done fiddling with the console, he stood behind Molly, watching the monitor with her. "With a bit of atmospheric excitation, it's possible I could cause wide-spread climate alteration. Remember Christmas, I made it snow."

     Donna recalled the first day she had met the Doctor. Only moments before the Doctor had been so terrifying and cold, standing and watching while everything burned and drowned around him, then he was all smiles and making it snow. She remembered what she'd said to him. _"That place was flooding and burning and they were dying, and you were stood there like, I don't know, a stranger. And then you made it snow. I mean, you scare me to death!"_ It had been warranted then, but so much had changed since them. The Doctor was no stranger anymore, and the danger was more thrilling than terrifying.

     She shook herself out of her thoughts. "You made it snow in London," she pointed out. "A very small portion of London. We're talking about a bloody _planet._ "

     The Doctor glanced up at her briefly. "That's why we're going to research and see what the total surface area of the planet is and how long-lasting the effects would be."

     "Well, we're going to go try to avert war," Donna replied. “Have fun with the whole science thing.” She and Lestrade headed out of the TARDIS, leaving the other travelers behind them.

     Lestrade headed off towards Wartonin's chair, leaving Donna to look for Shreeke. She eventually spotted him pacing by the far left wall, wearing a disgruntled expression. Donna made her way over. “Hey, Shreeke, was it? I had a few questions -”

     “I have nothing to say to you,” Shreeke grunted, glaring up at the human. He barely reached Donna's hip, yet he didn't seem at all intimidated by her.

     Donna felt a flash of irritation. She grabbed a nearby chair, pulling it up in front of the Myst and sitting with her arms crossed. “Tough,” she snapped. “You're talking anyway.” The rock-like creature glared at her, but didn't say anything. “Look pal, I may not be from your precious planet, but I'm here, and I'm not leaving 'til this bloody thing's cleared up, so suck it up. I'm here to help.”

     “And how do I know you won't try to cheat my people out of our resources once the drought is over?” Shreeke demanded. “Nothing comes free, not aid, not anything.”

     This Myst was stubborn, but Donna wasn't even getting started yet. “We're not some foreign government you're trying to make a deal with here. We're just a couple of idiots who wander around saving people. We live in a time machine that's bigger on the inside. There's not a whole lot we could ask you for.” Shreeke just snorted. Her temper flared. “Why is it so hard for you to think that we're just here to help, no strings attached?”

     Shreeke glared evenly at her. “Because I can't risk the future of my nation,” he said. “We're in too much debt as it is. If we get into any more, it won't matter that the drought's over.”

     “Your entire planet is _dying_ ,” Donna countered sharply. “If you don't let us help, it's gonna be a hell of a lot worse than any debt.”

     “What if I do trust you? What happens when this is all done and my planet gets screwed over? How do I know that you won't try to collect on whatever you give us?”

     “Well, you know what mate? You really don't have any other choice.”

     Shreeke paused in his pacing. For the first time, Donna saw a hint of hesitation in his stone-hard expression. "Fine," he growled. "What can a bunch of rag-tag humans and their alien ringleader possibly do for my planet?"

     "The Doctor's working on something right now," Donna told him. "Something kinda sciency I don't really get, but the point is, he thinks he can help get rid of the drought altogether."

     He gave her a disbelieving glare. "He can get rid of the drought?" he repeated dubiously.

     "Yes... maybe... I dunno," she admitted. "But there's a chance. You gotta give us that chance."

     Shreeke was silent for a few moments, his narrowed gaze seeming to try and measure her. Finally, he just grunted, "We won't make deals with any other planets."

     Donna rolled her eyes. "Yeah yeah, whatever mate." She'd clear that hurdle if she had to, later.

     "But," Shreeke continued, as if she hadn't spoken, "since you all seem to be too stupid to have your own planet, I guess I don't see the harm in letting you try something." He spoke as though it was his idea, but it was clear he was just trying to save his pride. The Myst knew as well as Donna that letting the travelers help was his planet's only hope.

**SCENEBREAK**

     While Donna went to talk to Shreeke, Lestrade made his way over to Wartonin. The white alien was still fuming, still sitting by the table and glaring at everyone in view with all five eyes. She relaxed ever so slightly when Lestrade approached, just enough to let him know that he wasn't the immediate target of her anger. "What do you want?" she huffed.

     Lestrade took that as an invitation to sit. He turned his chair to face her, thinking over what to say. "I wanted to say, sorry about us all barging in on your meeting," he said. "It was an accident. But maybe now that we're here we'll be able to help."

     "Maybe," Wartonin allowed gruffly.

      Taking that as a step in the right direction, Lestrade decided to press on. "How are your people coping with the drought?"

     The Grick gave him a dubious glance, but answered, "We're suffering. Same as anyone else here."

     "Because of the Bungars?"

     Wartonin bristled. "They're thieves," she growled. "We won't stand for it,"

     "And no one expects you to," Lestrade assured her. "But is war really the answer?"

     "We will do whatever it takes to protect our resources," she answered firmly.

     The former cop searched for the right words to keep from setting her off. "Your nation seems much smaller than the Bungars."

     That got Wartonin's attention. She stiffened, eyes bright with anger as she demanded, "Are you saying we're weak?"

     "No," Lestrade said, "but even if you win against the Bungars, can you really afford the people and resources it will cost you? Especially in the middle of a drought?" Wartonin glared at him, but didn't have anything to say in reply. "Right now is the absolute worse time for a war. No nation has the strength for it, and it'll just make matters worse."

     Wartonin crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you expect us to do? Just let the Bungars take whatever they want? We can't just sit by and watch them steal from us."

     "I know. But I doubt they're likely to agree to anything under the pressure of war. If I can get them to agree to some kind of compensation, will you back off with the talk of war?"

     She sniffed. "Maybe. Only if we get what we're due, and a full apology from the nation of thieves."

     Privately, Lestrade wondered how he was going to manage that, but all he said was, "Alright, I'll talk to them."

**SCENEBREAK**

     As Donna started to make her way back over to the TARDIS, to ask the Doctor about the whole making-it-rain thing, she was waved over by Mou and Boran. They were sitting together, Boran in his tank with his paws and head peeking over the top, Mou curled awkwardly on a chair next to him. The centipede-like alien was looking at her hopefully as he said, "Par told me you humans think you can get rid of the drought. Is it true?"

     Donna hesitated. She really didn't understand the science behind this scheme of the Doctor's, or whether it had a prayer of working. But Mou looked so hopeful. She told him, "Maybe, yeah."

     Mou sighed. He seemed like a quiet little guy, not as worn and tired as Par, but still kinda gloomy. "Thank the suns. I don't know if we could get through this any other way."

      "What with Shreeke being stubborn and Wartonin being stingy, I'm not surprised," Donna said.

     Mou nodded grimly. "Us Winkins would've never have gotten fair consideration," he told her. "We're always overlooked."

     "And no one stops to think what taking all this water from the ocean will do to my people," Boran added. "We need more water. This drought isn't something that will be solved by talking. The Bungars aren't going to just stop stealing because Dree asks them nicely." There was a bitterness to his tone.

     Donna's earlier anger at Shreeke softened into sympathy. "Don't worry, we won't let anyone get overlooked. Alright?" After a few moments, Mou and Boran gave a short nod.

     "How'd it go?" She turned to see Lestrade heading over, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked a bit worried, but not defeated.

      The ginger companion shrugged. "Well enough. He agreed to let us try to help."

     "So did Wartonin - sort of," Lestrade replied. "Now we just need the Doctor to work a miracle."

     Almost as a reply, there was the sound of a muffled explosion from the TARDIS, making the ground in the meeting room shake. Everyone turned to stare at the box in surprise, especially when smoke started emitting from the space between the door and the doorframe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, new chapter time. *throws confetti*
> 
> Anyway, there should only be one more part to this episode, then onto the next. The next episode will be a canon one, but I won't say which one yet, and I will say that it will be quite different than it's canon form.


	62. Council of the Seven Rings: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explosions ensue.

     Lestrade suppressed a groan at the sound of a muffled explosion from inside the TARDIS. Rather than being a cause for concern, similar to the mini explosions from Sherlock's lab slash kitchen, they barely even got a reaction from him anymore. The Doctor often liked to work on experiments in various parts of the TARDIS, and they usually ended with some sort of disaster. He could only guess what the Doctor had broken or blown up this time.

     He and Donna cautiously approached the smoking TARDIS, but before they could get too close, the door swung open, smoke pouring out of the entrance. The Doctor and Molly emerged from the TARDIS, coughing and trying to wave the smoke away from themselves. Lestrade went to Molly's side immediately, leading her lightly away from the TARDIS, but other than the coughing she seemed fine to walk.

     The Council member stared at the coughing human and Time Lord in shock. “What in the suns?” Istil exclaimed. “What's wrong with them?”

     The Doctor waved an arm dismissively, still trying to cough the smoke out of his system. “Just inhaled emissions from a faulty catalyst in the atmospheric stabilizers, we'll be fine, just give us a minute.”

     “What the genius over here _means_ to say is that he tried something stupid and it blew up in our faces,” Molly added sharply between coughs, glaring at the Doctor. Lestrade tensed, fearing that she'd started to backtrack, but she just seemed annoyed, not anything worse.

     For a few moments, the only sound was Molly and the Doctor's coughing tapering off, finally fading into slightly raspy breathing. Once they had their bearings back, the Doctor straightened up, looking a bit sheepish as he explained, “We tried to configure the TARDIS atmospheric stabilizers to cover a wide area and disperse condensation over a vast area for prolonged periods, you know, try and ease up the drought by bringing in more rainfall.”

     Molly straightened too, having been leaning against Lestrade as she tried to get her breath back. “But he miscalculated how much area the TARDIS could affect,” she added dryly. “The system went into overload.”

     The Doctor glanced back at the TARDIS. “She should be fine, it just needs to reconfigure and clear out the smoke,” he said.

     “What about the atmospheric whatever?” Wartonin snapped. “Can you fix the drought?”

     The Time Lord hesitated, but Molly answered first. “No,” she said quietly, looking around the whole room, as though trying to meet everyone's eye when she delivered the hard news. Lestrade felt a flutter of hope in his chest, even as the bad news hit him. This wasn't the cynical Molly who'd had to stand back and watch hundreds die in her name. This was the Molly who had started the Year, who met every person's problems with unguarded sympathy and a will to help in any way she could.

     Her news was met with a few moments of silence. Then the room erupted into shouting.

     “I knew we couldn't trust the outsiders!” Shreeke roared. “They've failed us!”

     Donna's eyes flashed with fury. “Oi, the Doctor and Molly did their best, so don't go acting like they're the ones to blame here,” she snapped.

     “So what are we going to do now?” Wartonin demanded.

     Dree sniffed, not looking terribly bothered by the news. “What we were going to do in the first place,” she said calmly. “We'll discuss the issue at hand, and we'll find a way to divide the remaining water fairly between all of us. I really don't see how Ms. Hooper's announcement changes any of this.”

     “No, I guess you wouldn't,” Istil said nastily. “Your kind wouldn't notice if all the oceans dried and the rest of us perished around you.”

     “Istil, enough,” Par said wearily. “We need to focus on what we can do, not bickering with each other.”

     Istil glared at his fellow Bungar. “You stay out of this!” he snapped. “There's a reason my people left and formed their own nation. The Northern Bungars don't speak for us any longer.”

     “I wasn't trying to,” Par replied, with a bit more of an edge to her voice. “I'm just saying –”

     “And you don't speak for the rest of us, Istil,” Wartonin interrupted, practically bristling with fury. He whirled around to glare at Dree, demanding, “Will you let a thief speak to us in such a way?”

     “Everyone has the same right to speak here,” Dree reminded him coldly, “and I don't need you telling me how to run this meeting.”

     “It would be nice if you actually ran it,” Shreeke growled. “We've been here for hours, and we've gotten nothing done.”

     “Maybe that's because some people are being stubborn,” Par said. “If none of us are going to agree, we have to reach some kind of compromise.”

     Shreeke just glared at her, but Wartonin whirled to face her, declaring, “The Gricks will not compromise!”

     Boran snapped, “Then we're not going to get anything done.”

     “SHUT IT!” Donna shouted, glaring around at everyone in the room with enough heat to burn a planet. Slowly, reluctantly, the ruckus died down, and the aliens turned to face the ginger human. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and her glare was unyielding and furious as she looked over every person in the room. “People are dying and you're bickering like children! We screwed up, alright, but that doesn't mean there's no way to make this work at all.”

     “How?” Mou asked quietly, speaking for the first time since the fight started. “The Gricks and the Mysts will get everything, and we'll never get any kind of help if Shreeke has his way.”

     Lestrade decided to speak up. “Then let's take another break. Just going at each other head-on isn't going to solve anything.”

     Dree looked around the room, eyes narrowed as she surveyed the councilors, before she gave a short nod. “Very well,” she sighed. “We'll be in recess for the next two hours. Again.”

     This time, the decision was met with angry grumbling. “We're not going to get anything done like this,” Wartonin growled. “Nothing got accomplished last time.”

     Dree glared at the Myst with cold anger in her eyes. “And nothing is going to get accomplished by yowling at each other like a swarm of howlercats. I'm disgusted in all of you. Fighting is the worst way to resolve this situation.”

     Shreeke snorted. “We don't answer to you,” he sneered.

     “No, but you do have to answer to your nations,” Dree said. She was glaring around the room with all the strength and authority of a leader, eyes shining with anger and disappointment. “Will they thank you when you come back with no solutions but war? More death, that's all that this means. And I will not stand for it in this meeting. As long as I am in charge here, we will keep these proceedings civil and orderly. No thievery, no war, no yelling. And if I decide that taking a break is the best way to reach that end, then we'll take as many breaks as it takes.”

     She turned and stormed off, drawing the Doctor and Molly off to a corner to confer with them. No one else spoke. It seemed Dree had made enough of an impression to keep them all silent. For now.

     Before Lestrade could approach his fellow travelers, Donna pulled him aside. “Christ, we really screwed that one up, didn't we?” she commented, eyes sparkling with worry.

     Lestrade sighed. “We were really riding on the Doctor's plan working.”

     There was a few moments of silence. Then, Donna straightened, new determination in her tone. “We'll just have to think of something else then. Come on.” She started towards the Doctor and Molly, Lestrade trailing after.

     Dree was still talking to the travelers, speaking in a low, urgent voice, but Donna interrupted her. “Excuse me, any chance we could borrow these two for a minute?” she asked.

     Dree blinked in surprise, glancing from one set of travelers to the other. Then she gave a low sigh. “Very well. I do hope you all know what you're doing. Our situation is worse than I thought. Somehow, I think we really will depend on your help in the end.”

     Lestrade felt a twinge of annoyance. Had everyone here given up on helping themselves? But he pushed it aside, remembering how many of the people on this planet were dying, and how hopeless they must all feel. It must be refreshing to receive some outside help. “We'll do our best,” he assured her as the rest of the group started to retreat to the TARDIS.

     All four travelers made their way into the TARDIS, Molly closing the door after all of them. There was a gloomy mood hanging over the group. They all knew they had screwed up, and now they were at a bit of a loss at how to advance.

     Donna spoke first. “So, what are we going to do now?” Lestrade could see she wasn't sure herself, but she was bulldozing through, trying to push them all to an answer.

     Molly shrugged. “We'll just have to find a way to help them without the TARDIS,” she determined. “It's not going to be easy, though. Not all of them want our help.”

     “That doesn't mean we're not going to help them,” the Doctor said, trying to sound cheerful.

     Molly shook her head. “We can't exactly force our help on them,” she pointed out. “If they're determined to turn us away, there's only so much we can do.”

     Lestrade felt a pang of sympathy. Mou, Boran, and Par had been so desperate for their help. “We can't just leave them,” he protested.

     His girlfriend sighed. “I'm not suggesting we do,” she said, strong conviction behind her tone. “There's a whole planet that needs help, not just a stubborn little group in a room. But it'll be hard to convince them.”

     Donna snorted. “Leave that to me,” she said.

     “And me,” Lestrade added. “I think I might be able to convince Wartonin to be reasonable.”

     “And I can wear down Shreeke,” Donna finished. “He'll come around, eventually.”

     Molly pointed out, “Yeah, but come around to what? We still have no idea how to help these people.”

     Lestrade had been thinking it over, and he thought he had an idea. He turned to the Doctor, asking in a low voice, “Are there any nearby planets that you think would be willing to offer aid?”

     The Doctor clasped his hands behind his back thoughtfully. “There's a few that might be willing.”

     “How quickly could you contact them?”

     Molly raised an eyebrow. “You want to try and talk these guys into letting another planet help them out?”

     Lestrade shrugged. “We can't help them with the TARDIS. There's only so much that they can do with the resources they have left on the planet. And who knows when this drought is going to end. They need help now, and this is the only way.”

     “Did you hear Shreeke? He'd rather let the whole planet die than accept outside help,” Molly reminded him.

     Donna grinned. “Leave it to me,” she assured Molly.

     “We'll convince them,” Lestrade told the Doctor and Molly. “You two worry about getting the help, we'll bring the councilors around.”

     The Doctor and Molly exchanged a quick look before the Time Lord gave a nod. “Alright. Let us know what they say.”

     “And good luck,” Molly added.

     Lestrade smiled. “Thanks. You too.” He and Donna turned and headed out of the TARDIS, seeking out the alien they planned to talk to.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Shreeke glared at Donna as she approached. “Unless you're here to say you and your weird box are packed up to leave, I'm not interested in talking.”

     “How long can you manage that,” Donna shot back right away, “a whole hour or is that too much to handle?” Shreeke just gave her a pointed glare. She stood in front of him, arms crossed over her chest. “Look, I think we've found a way we can help you.”

     “That's what you said last time,” Shreeke pointed out icily.

     “And we screwed up,” Donna acknowledged. “But we're not giving up, and now we think we've found a planet that could-”

     “See, that's the problem,” Shreeke cut her off, “when it was just some idiots in a box with no affiliation to anything, I was okay. But I will not endanger us all by accepting the help of a governed planet.”

     Donna gaped at him. “ _Endanger_ you? How exactly does that work?”

     Shreeke shifted uncomfortably. “Let's just say that we're already in enough debt. The sort of funds that would be required to pull us out of this mess would tank our economy.”

     “I understand that,” Donna said impatiently. “But people are dying.”

     “And more will die if they're homeless by the hundreds with no way to feed themselves.”

     The former temp felt a rush of frustration. “It doesn't have to be like that,” she argued. “There's plenty of ways to pay off a debt, and you don't have to pay it off right away. You'd wait 'til you got back on your feet.”

     Shreeke snorted. “How would you know anything about this? You're no government official or economist, you're just a human.”

     The alien's scornful tone set Donna's skin to boiling. She got right in his face, snarling, “That's right, I'm not anyone special. I'm just a temp from Chiswick. But what I do know is numbers, and how to use them. Let me see a sheet of your finances, and maybe I can figure out a way to get you through this debt without botching it up.”

     “And why would we trust you with something like that?”

     “Because what have you got to lose?” she snapped in reply. Shreeke was silent for several moments. “Listen, I understand why you're worried. But this isn't some decision of trade or foreign policy or something. Your people are dying. They need help _now_. You can't worry so much about the future that you're too scared to save your nation when they're dying in front of you. Do you really want to be the man that hangs the jury and ends up being responsible for the death of a whole planet when it could have been avoided?”

     Shreeke sighed, looking away. Donna hedged, “Just give it a chance. I can _help_ you.”

     The alien gave her a long, measuring glance. “I am not accustomed to trusting the fate of my planet to strange traveling humans.” He sighed. “But it seems I have no choice. Do what you have to, I'll agree to it.”

     Donna felt her shoulders relax. _Finally!_ Shreeke seemed pretty resigned and defeated about it, so she assured him, “We'll do everything we can to help your planet. I promise.”

     After a few moments, Shreeke turned and met her gaze. “I'll hold you to that,” he warned.

     Donna just nodded. “Fair enough.” It seemed like a dismissal. Her task done, she decided to head back to the TARDIS.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Lestrade had finished talking to Wartonin by the time Donna headed over. “Shreeke's in,” she announced as she approached.

     “That's good,” Lestrade said. “Wartonin's in, on a condition. We have to get Istil to admit to the thievery.”

     Donna let out a low whistle. “Yeah, that'll be fun. Is Wartonin alright with fairly splitting up resources?”

     Lestrade hesitated. “She said it in not so many words. I think she still wants equal shares, but hearing that there's going to be more water coming in anyway sort of softened the blow.”

     “So, all we have to do is get the representative of a country that's been stealing valuable resources to admit it to the country that they've been stealing from,” Donna said sarcastically. “Yeah, that'll go swimmingly.

     Privately, Lestrade thought the same, but he forced himself to sound cheerful. “Well, we've gotten this far, might as well give it a shot.”

     Donna sighed. “Here goes.” The two travelers made their way over to Istil, who sat near the table, a few chairs scattered around nearby. He looked up warily as they approached, his three eyes darting between the two of them, but he said nothing.

     “Hi,” Lestrade greeted, wondering how to approach the question. “Can we sit down?”

     After a moment, Istil nodded. Donna and Lestrade sat in chairs across from him. There was an awkward silence. Lestrade was still mulling over the awkward question at hand when Donna spoke. “Things aren't going well for your people, are they?” she asked Istil gently. It was a completely different tone than the loud brashness she had used with Shreeke, or most of the aliens they came across.

     Istil looked at the woman with a guarded expression before sighing. “No, they're not. We're dying,” he admitted, his voice hollow. He just seemed so defeated.

     “That's why you're stealing from the Gricks?” Lestrade added. He couldn't help but feel bad for the guy.

     Istil sighed. “Voting for that bill to pass, the one saying we would take illegal measures to acquire necessary resources, that was the hardest thing I've ever had to do,” he murmured. His eyes were dull and his expression unmoving; admitting it seemed to be killing him. “But I knew – we all knew – it was the only way we were going to survive. I never thought we'd have to take such shameful measures. But what else can we do?”

     Lestrade and Donna exchanged a glance. Istil seemed like an honorable guy. Maybe they could talk him into this after all. “There's still time,” Lestrade said. “You can fix this.”

     Something sparked in Istil's expression. “How?”

     “We think we've found a way to supply the planet with more water,” Donna explained carefully. “A negotiation with another planet.”

     Istil snorted softly. “Shreeke'll love that.”

     “Shreeke's agreed to it.” Istil looked up in surprise, something like hope in his expression. Donna continued, “And so has Wartonin. The only condition is...”

     “...you have to admit what your country's done,” Lestrade finished.

     Istil's expression became guarded. “To Wartonin, you mean,” he said.

     “Yeah,” Lestrade admitted.

     Istil glanced away, clearly thinking things over. Lestrade and Donna stayed silent as he thought. After a few moments, he turned back to face them. “You're sure that this is going to work this time?”

     They both hesitated. “Not this particular planet, no,” Donna admitted. “But if this one doesn't work out, another will. We won't rest until we've figured out a way to help you.”

     Istil seemed to take that promise as enough. He sighed, then gave a slow nod. “I'll do whatever I have to. Just help us.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     Dree glanced around the table, measuring each person's expression. “You're all willing to sign off on this?”

     Everyone nodded. Donna and Lestrade had filled everyone else in on the plan, while Molly and the Doctor had contacted a nearby planet willing to provide aid. The planet hadn't had much contact with the council's planet before, so Lestrade was hopeful about it not dredging up too much debt for them.

     Dree inclined her head slightly. “Very well. My government will finalize the contact with this planet, and we'll keep in touch with your nations. I'm pleased with how this was all resolved.” She glanced at Donna and Lestrade as she said this. “The Council of the Seven Rings is now adjourned.”

     There was the sound of something unclicking and some humming noises, and Lestrade knew the defenses that the TARDIS had torn through before had been lowered. The Doctor recognized it too. “Aaaaand, that's our cue to leave,” he announced, standing from his chair. The other aliens began to stand as well, heading for the door. Boran's tank seemed to waver for a moment before he teleported out of the room. The travelers began to make their way out towards their ship.

     Par managed to catch Lestrade and Donna before they made it to the TARDIS. “I just wanted to say, thank you,” she said softly. “We owe you our peoples' lives.”

     Donna shifted uncomfortably. “You would've figured it out on your own,” she said. “We just helped.”

     “Either way, I'm grateful,” Par said. “If you ever need help of any kind, let me know.” She pulled Donna into a hug, giving Lestrade one as well before heading away out the door. Lestrade and Donna stared after her for a moment before turning back and heading into the TARDIS.

     “Well,” the Doctor said as his companions walked towards the console, “glad that all got sorted out.” His expression turned serious for a moment as he added, “Well done, you two.”

     Donna shrugged. “You're the one that actually found help,” she argued. “All we did is talk to people.”

     “But that's the most important part,” Molly replied. “I think sometimes I've forgotten that.” She smiled at Lestrade, leaning against him and putting an arm around his waist. “But I'm getting there.”

     “You saved them, Donna, not us,” the Doctor agreed, smiling at Donna kindly. He glanced at Lestrade too. “Both of you. Remember that, alright?”

     Donna still looked uncomfortable, but she allowed a quick, “Yeah, alright,” before circling around to the other side of the console. “Anyway, enough standing around. C'mon, we've got worlds to see.”

     Lestrade grinned, slinging an arm over his girlfriend's shoulders. When Molly had first made the offer to let him stay on the TARDIS, he'd thought of it as temporary, a sort of vacation after the Year until he returned to his normal life. But he knew now, and expected, that his life would never be normal again. The TARDIS was his home now, and he was going to stay as long as he was welcome – and as long as he could run. He'd found friends here, a family, a life he loved, and the longer he stayed, the less he saw himself giving it up. And for the first time, that didn't worry him. He embraced it.

     He didn't have to worry about the future anymore. Wherever it took him, he knew he'd be sticking around the strange blue box and her strange family for a long time to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, sorry this took so long, but yay, another episode done. *throws confetti*
> 
> I've got schoolwork stuff, and I'm going to work on my original project more, so it may be a little while until my next update. Hopefully not too long, though. The next episode is going to be a canon one, though like I said, it's going to be wildly different from it's canon incarnation.
> 
> And yeah, we're coming up on the end here folks. I'll try to wrap this up before the year's end (no promises though.) I have a project planned after this, but first I need to finish The Town of Sleeping Metal. Sorry to fans of that one! I'll get to it eventually.


	63. Midnight: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What could possibly go wrong on a planet called Midnight?

     “I said _no_.”

     “Sapphire waterfall,” the Doctor hedged. “It's a waterfall made of sapphires. This enormous jewel, the size of a glacier reaches the Cliffs of Oblivion, and then shatters into sapphires at the edge. They fall a hundred thousand feet into a crystal ravine. ”

     “I bet you say that to all the girls,” Donna replied, clearly unimpressed.

     A whine entered the Doctor's voice. “Oh, come on. They're boarding now. It's no fun without you. Four hours, that's all it takes.” Molly held back a laugh at the Doctor's child-like frustration.

     “No, that's four hours there and four hours back,” Donna said firmly. “That's like a school trip. I'd rather go sunbathing.”

     “You be careful, that's Xtonic sunlight.”

     “Oh, I'm safe. It says in the brochure this glass is fifteen feet thick,” Donna said dismissively.

     The Doctor sighed. “All right, I give up. We'll be back for dinner. We'll try that anti-gravity restaurant. With bibs.”

     “That's a date.” Donna paused. “Well, not a date. Oh, you know what I mean. Oh, get off.”

     “See you later,” the Doctor said.

     “Oi.” The Time Lord paused, waiting for Donna to speak. “And you be careful, all right?”

     The Doctor's grin entered his voice. “Taking a big space truck with a bunch of strangers across a diamond planet called Midnight? What could possibly go wrong?”

     Donna sighed as she hung up the phone. “Of course he had to go and say that. Now something's doomed to happen.” She shook her head, leaning back against her beach chair. “I'm surprised you didn't go with him, this seems like your kind of trip.”

     Molly was leaning against her own chair, flipping through a Agatha Christie novel. “Eh, I just felt like relaxing today,” she said. “Sapphire waterfalls notwithstanding, sometimes it's nice to just take a day off from running around space and time.”

     The ginger woman chuckled. “I'm with you there. Still, I'm surprised the Doctor didn't ask you to come. He's been bugging me enough about it, and I know Greg had some stuff on Earth to take care of. The Doctor doesn't seem to like to do things alone.”

     Molly shrugged. “I think he knows I could use a break.” In the month and a half since they'd visited the Council of the Seven Rings, they'd visited a new planet nearly every day, whether it was for shopping and trying exotic foods, or running from homicidal aliens and saving worlds. It had all been wildly fun as always, and the time had helped her to heal from the Year, but it had also been pretty exhausting.

     Donna nodded, clearly remembering the same adventures. “Yeah, it's been pretty crazy. I can't blame your boyfriend for taking a week off on Earth.”

     Greg had been called by Scotland Yard. Technically he still worked for them, even though he'd been gone for months, and they needed his help with something. He was definitely doing actual important work on Earth, but it was bound to be less strenuous than saving far-off worlds.

     “It's weird,” Molly commented. “Living on the TARDIS, you don't really notice time. It all sort of just blurs together. I have to keep a calendar in my room just to keep track of how many weeks or months it's been. But you can still feel when it's been a while, you know?”

     The ginger woman sighed. “Yeah. It'll all be crazy adventures and weird worlds and suddenly I'll stop and remember how long it's been since I've seen Grandad.”

     Molly felt a pang of sympathy. What with her, Lestrade, and the Doctor's families all being dead, she sometimes forgot that Donna still had a family alive on Earth. It must be hard having to leave them behind. “You know, the Doctor will take you to see him if you ask him,” Molly told her.

     “Yeah, and I might take him up on that soon,” Donna said. “But I think I'm okay for now. Grandad and Mum both know where I am and what I'm doing, and they're happy for me. Well, Grandad is, I don't know if Mum's ever happy about anything.” Molly laughed. “I'm happy where I am, and yeah, I miss Grandad, but I've got my own life to live.”

     Molly nodded. “That makes sense. Your Grandad seems like the kind of guy who just wants you to be happy. Wilf's a cool guy.”

     Donna smiled fondly. “Thanks.”

     The two fell into silence for a bit. Molly was flipping through her book, and Donna was just enjoying the sunlight. The Xtonic sunlight streamed through the thick glass, harmless and comfortably warm. After months of running around, it was nice to just have a day to just sit and do nothing.

     “Has anyone seen a howlercat?”

     The silence was broken as a panicked voice called out. Molly looked away from her book, and Donna lifted her head to see. A tall, blue alien with tentacle arms raced into the room, looking about wildly. “Please, someone, my pet's escaped!”

     Donna and Molly exchanged a quick glance, then got up from their chairs and made their way to the distressed alien. “Calm down,” Molly said calmly. “Now, what's this about your pet?”

     The alien seemed truly distressed. “He's my Scaley, he is, and now he's gone! I went to breakfast, and when I got back to my suite, he wasn't anywhere!” He wrapped his tentacles around himself. “Poor Mr. Scales, he must be so lost and scared.”

     “What does he look like?” Donna asked.

     The alien looked at her oddly. “Well, he's a howlercat, innit he?”

     Donna rolled her eyes. “Human here, wanna explain what that means?”

     “Well, he's about four feet long, with a long tail, a sorta cat-like head, scales all over, poisonous fangs, long claws, four legs, and venomous breath. He's got gray and black-scales and white eyes – you know, a howlercat,” he added with frustration, waving a tentacle to indicate that it should've been obvious.

     The two humans gaped at the alien. “And you keep this as a _pet_?!” Donna repeated, voice high with disbelief.

     "Yes," the alien repeated, as though Donna were an idiot. "Please, can you help me find him?"

     Molly and Donna exchanged a look. They couldn't let an animal like that just run loose, it was too dangerous. Donna nodded. "Yeah, we'll help." Molly grinned. Maybe having a day to rest was overrated.

**SCENEBREAK**

     "Heeeeeeere Scaley," Molly cooed. "Heeeeeeeere boy."

     The howlercat was in front of her, eyes narrowed and a growl rumbling q in his throat. They had managed to back the creature into a corner, and they were holding out alien treats that the howlercat's owner had given them. Unfortunately, Mr. Scales didn't seem very interested.

     The creature lifted his head, the spines on his back raising threateningly and his growl growing in volume. Donna's eyes widened. “Oh bleedin- run!” The two humans managed to race away in time to avoid the explosion of heat. Apparently, the owner of precious Mr. Scales had failed to inform them that the howlercat could also breathe _fire_.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Some singed hair and a few scrapes and scratches later, they managed to shepherd Mr. Scales back into his crate. The tentacled alien was estatic when they brought him back. “Scaley!” To Molly and Donna's horror, he let the howlercat out the crate.

     But now that his owner was there, the fierce creature was tame as a housecat. He weaved himself between his owner's legs, making a strange rumbling sound that Molly assumed was a purr. Molly couldn't help but feel insulted.

     “I really can't thank you enough,” the alien assured them. “I don't know what I would've done if I'd lost him forever.”

     “It's no trouble,” Donna assured him, lying through her teeth. “Just make sure he doesn't get out again, alright?”

     He assured them he wouldn't, and thanked a good many more times, before going to take Mr. Scales back to his suite.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Now that all the craziness was over, Molly and Donna got back to their sunbathing. Molly pulled out her copy of “Murder on the Orient Express” again, and Donna settled back against her chair, reveling in the warm sunlight.

     There was a comfortable silence for a while as the two women just relaxed. Capturing the howlercat hadn't taken too long, so they had a while yet before the Doctor was supposed to get back. There was still plenty of time to have a nice, relaxed day.

     Donna shifted, letting out a slight hiss of pain as her scratches stung. “Damn howlercat. Next time I get to request a trip, I'd like a word with whoever thought making those things pets was a good idea.”

     Molly chuckled. “Ah, that's nothing. A Khaynen clawed up my shoulder pretty bad one time. I've still got the scars.” Donna had seen Molly in tank-tops with shoulders exposed before, and she'd seen the large claw-marks sliced through her shoulder. She'd wondered at the scars, but she hadn't wanted to ask. Molly grinned at a sudden memory. “I got it stitched up by the Tsarina and Grand Duchess of Russia.”

     “Hmm, I seem to remember getting shot in the shoulder?” Donna said in a fakely thoughtful tone. The bullet wound had scarred over months ago, and was still very visible on her shoulder. It was a bit of a sore spot for Donna, but in the end, she was mostly just proud to show off that she'd survived getting shot.

     The other woman laughed. “Yeah, I think you win that one,” she allowed. “The things we go through, huh?”

     “Makes you wonder why we stick around,” Donna joked.

     The two women dissolved into laughter. It was nice getting to know the real Molly, Donna reflected, not the hardened soldier she had been when they'd first met. She could still remember that first trip, to the crystal snows of Paldoon. Molly had seemed so cold and distant to the desperate refugees. Donna had worried then that the same thing would happen to her, and that she'd made the wrong choice joining on with the TARDIS. But she knew differently now, and she knew Molly better.

     Molly grew quiet for a moment. “I'd never leave the TARDIS,” she said. “I love this life too much.” Then she grinned, the serious mood dissipated. “Besides, how could I ever leave my room, or the library behind?”

     Donna rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, the library you never leave. I'm surprised you ever see daylight,” she teased. The TARDIS library was Molly's favorite hangout in the ship. Personally, it didn't hold the same interest for Donna, but she could understand Molly's fascination. “You know, you spend too many nights there. You should join us for game night some time instead of poking around books.”

     “I come to game night plenty!” Molly protested.

     “You missed Scrabble three nights ago,” Donna retorted. “Word of advice – never play Scrabble with a Time Lord. Greg and I had to make a new rule about not using words from the ancient past, future, or any language other than 21st Century English. He spent the rest of the night pouting.”

     Molly laughed, loud and hard. “Yeah, sorry I missed that,” she joked. “Maybe I should come more often. Scrabble's one of my favorite games.”

     “Nah, I've never been good at words,” Donna said. Molly looked at her oddly. “Games. Never been good at word games,” the ginger companion corrected quickly, but Molly still wore a strange expression. She almost seemed like she was about to say something, when an alarm started going off, and red lights started flashing on the walls. Molly and Donna exchanged a glance, sharing a sort of, _well, duty calls,_ expression, before getting up from their chairs to go investigate.

     There was a resort employee nearby. Donna and Molly pulled her aside. “What's going on?” Molly asked in a low voice.

     The employee hesitated, gaze darting around, before admitting, “Something's wrong with the oxygen tanks. The oxygen supply's depleting, and we don't know why.”

     Donna's blood froze at the thought of the place running out of oxygen. “Where are the oxygen tanks?”

**SCENEBREAK**

     When the employee had said “something wrong with the oxygen tanks,” Donna had assumed that a pipe had burst, or a part had come loose or something. What she hadn't expected was a sentient space fungi eating through the metal of the pipes, ready to fight to protect their haul.

     “Molly!” She tossed the other companion a wrench that they'd brought with them. Molly's arm was currently fully engulfed by a yellow mass of alien fungi, which was trying to either eat her or kill her or... something. Either way, the strange rumbling sound it was letting out wasn't friendly, and it had already absorbed the jacket Molly had shed earlier. Molly caught the wrench with her other hand, then swung it around and slammed it hard against the fungi. It released her arm immediately, letting out a shriek of pain. Donna wondered how it could shriek, seeing as there wasn't any visible mouth, just a spongy yellow mass, but after a moment she decided that shouldn't be her primary concern.

     “Thanks,” Molly gasped, racing past Donna as a yellow tendril snaked after her. Donna leaped backwards as the fungi reached for her, wondering how in the hell they were going to get themselves out of this one.

**SCENEBREAK**

     They managed to figure out that the fungi didn't like sunlight, so they were able to drive him back by turning on the overhead lights in the room. The creatures retreated, and the mechanics took over, repairing the damage the fungi had done to the oxygen tanks.

     “Thank you, both of you,” the director of the resort said to the humans. He had come out personally to thank the women who had saved the resort – again. “How can we repay you?”

     Molly waved a hand dismissively. “It's alright, we do this a lot,” she assured him. “We don't need anything, we're just, you know, happy to help.”

     The director insisted on at least giving them a discount on their room, which Donna and Molly reluctantly accepted. Their task done, the two returned to their beach chairs, relaxing in the Xtonic sunlight, ready to enjoy the rest of the relaxing day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is it whenever I say it'll take a while to publish the next chapter, I finish it almost right away, but when I say I'll have the next chapter out soon, it takes a month to write? *sigh*
> 
> So, here's our next canon episode, Midnight, but as promised it's very different from the canon episode. Instead of staying with the Doctor and meeting the unnamed creature of the unliveable planet, we stick with Donna and Molly and have a girl's day off.
> 
> This will most likely be a very short episode, only one or two more parts. It's a bit more lighthearted as well, a bit of a breather episode. I hope you enjoy the style of it and enjoy some Molly and Donna bonding.
> 
> Sorry the chapter's so short, but there wasn't a better place to cut it off, it would've felt dragged out if I made it longer. Hopefully the next chapter will make up for it.


	64. Midnight: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chaos at the resort.

     “Do you have a family?”

     Molly blinked in surprise, looking up from her book. “Hmm?”

     Donna regretted the question immediately, but she'd always wondered. Greg and Molly never talked about anyone left behind on Earth, and they never seemed to visit anyone. Did they have someone back on Earth they missed, that they worried about? “On Earth, do you have a family?”

     The woman's expression changed, eyes soft with sadness. “Not anymore.”

     Donna cursed herself for bringing it up. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked –”

     “No, no, it's fine,” Molly assured her. “My mum died when I was a kid. My dad raised me, we were really close. He died before I went to university.”

     “I'm sorry,” Donna said softly. There wasn't anything else to say.

     “It's alright. I got to talk to him once, after I joined on the TARDIS. I think he'd be happy where I've gotten in life.”

     “Really?” Donna asked boldly. “Even after you went through the Year?”

     Molly looked at her with surprise. Donna wondered whether she'd even answer the question, but Molly didn't seem mad, just thoughtful. Finally, she said, “I never told you what my life was like before the TARDIS, did I?”

     A little confused, Donna shook her head. Molly explained, “You already know I used to have a crush on Sherlock. You can imagine what that's like. He was so brilliant and cold, he never gave me the time of day, except when he needed something from me. Then he was all too charming. Once I'd helped him with whatever case he was one, he went right back to ignoring me.”

     Donna felt a flare of anger for Molly's sake. “That's cruel, even for Sherlock,” she said.

     Molly smiled. “He was a much colder man back then. He's learned since then, don't worry. Anyway, so I was dealing with that. I felt so useless, and not just because of Sherlock. I just felt like I wasn't worth anything to anyone. I was so quiet and shy. My goal was just to get through the day without being noticed by anyone. That's all I thought I deserved.”

     Her story was hitting a little too close to home for Donna. “That's horrible,” she said quietly, trying not to think of other implications.

     The companion nodded. “Yeah. I wasn't happy. But then I started traveling, and I started to save worlds. It made me realize that I was worth so much more than I thought. That I counted, even if the people around me hadn't let me think that. Even though I had to endure the Year, I wouldn't give up learning that for anything.”

     “Right,” Donna said. She was having trouble imaging Molly as shy and self-doubting as she described herself. To her, Molly had always seemed like a powerhouse figure, a strong leader and soldier. Even at her most despairing and most broken, she hadn't been quiet or shy in any way. It was a weird way to think of her. TARDIS life really had done her a lot of good, if that was how she had started out.

     Molly's sudden laugh broke through Donna's thoughts. “Besides, some good came out of the Year.” Donna was shocked to hear the words out of the woman who had been broken down sobbing over it mere months ago. “I got to boss around the high and mighty Sherlock Holmes.”

     Donna laughed, trying to imagine Sherlock Holmes taking orders from anyone. “I would've paid to see that,” she snorted. “I wonder what he and John are up to on Earth?”

     “Probably some case or other,” Molly replied. “Either that, or Sherlock is trying to blow up the flat out of boredom.”

     The ginger woman chuckled at the image, so fitting of Sherlock. “You know, it's weird to think that as we're off doing mad things in space and time, life's still going on as normal on Earth.”

     Molly nodded. Without warning, she asked, “Do you ever think about going back?”

     The question caught Donna by surprise. She hesitated, trying to think of the right words. “I think about what it would be like if I'd stayed behind,” she said carefully. “And that's when I realize that I never want to go back. The TARDIS is my home now.”

     “Mine too,” Molly said softly. Donna glanced at her. “I considered leaving a few times during the Year. I thought that maybe, once the nightmare was over and the world was back to normal, that maybe it would be time to settle down, go back to the hospital, make a life on Earth. I thought I'd had enough of adventure and danger to last me a few lifetimes.”

     “Why didn't you leave?” Donna asked quietly.

     Molly shrugged. “We left England the first day of the Year, and we didn't return until the last day. The weeks and days leading up to it, I knew I was coming back home. It wasn't until I touched down on the shores of Great Britain that I knew for sure I wasn't home yet. Home was still ahead.”

     Donna nodded. After all this time, she thought she understood what Molly meant.

     They fell back into silence. Molly picked her book back up, and Donna leaned back against her chair. Only a few moments had passed, however, when there was the muffled sound of a nearby explosion, and the lights flicked out.

     Donna and Molly shared an exasperated glance. Reluctantly, Donna grumbling, they stood from their chairs. Duty called.

**SCENEBREAK**

     “Sir, I understand that you're in your own room, but you can't just blow up resort property,” Molly said as calmly as she could manage.

     A big, burly alien with scaley brown skin and three green eyes was standing in the doorway of his room. He jabbered and blathered in some strange alien language, and he gestured a lot with his four hands. Clearly, he was angry about something.

     “And we appreciate that,” Donna added. “But the fact that you're willing to compensate the resort doesn't mean you just get to blow up whatever you like.” There was more of a bite in her tone; she didn't have Molly's patience.

     The alien jabbered a bit more, voice going high at the end in question.

     Molly sighed, her tone strained as she said, “Because hotels are expensive and time-consuming to rebuild and it would just be easier for everyone if you _didn't_ destroy the room in a ritual sacrifice.”

     The alien's blabbering reached a high, whiny tone.

     “Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to hand over your explosives,” Molly said coolly, “and anything else that could be considered dangerous.”

     The alien protested in a series of jabbers and whines, waving his arms in emphasis.

     “Either you hand them over or we have the resort eject you without a refund, mate,” Donna growled.

     The alien groaned. Reluctantly, he withdrew from the door, returning with an armful of explosives, candles, matches, and other devices that were probably dangerous in some capacity. He was grumbling and growling as he handed them over to the surprised humans, but he didn't try to stop them from toddling off, wobbling under the weight of their loads.

**SCENEBREAK**

     “Is it just me, or is this resort completely incapable of running without us?” Donna asked irritably as they returned to their chairs. “This is _supposed_ to be our day off.”

     Molly sighed, sinking back into her chair and pulling out her book. “It's like they can't go two minutes without being blown up or invaded or attacked or anything.”

     “Lucky Doctor, off seeing falling sapphires and rubies or whatever while we're doing all the work,” Donna grumbled. “Bet he's having a good old time of it.”

     The other companion chuckled. “Knowing the Doctor, he's found plenty of trouble to get himself into. We always do. But we always get ourselves out of it.” She gave Donna a measuring glance, thinking.

     Donna shifted uncomfortably. “What?”

     Molly tried to find the right words. “Donna, why did you decide to come onto the TARDIS?”

     The ginger woman looked surprised by the question. She opened her mouth to answer, then paused, seeming to think the question over. “I met the Doctor the day of my wedding,” she said. “I didn't want to leave Earth then.”

     “I know, he told me,” Molly said.

     “Well, after he was gone, life just didn't seem the same. It all just seemed so unimportant. It's like I was sitting around thinking about space and time and everything I'd given up, and I couldn't bring myself to care about temping or gossip or anything in my day to day life. Everything I'd made my life up with seemed so dull, now that I knew what was out there. The danger didn't seem so important anymore.”

     Molly nodded. “I know what you mean.”

     “Besides,” Donna said quietly, to herself, “it's not like I was doing anybody any good back home.”

     The other companion grew quiet. Donna felt a flash of embarrassment as she realized Molly had heard her. “You know, you and I have a lot in common.” Donna looked at her in surprise. “We have the same problem, but we solve it in different ways. I thought I wasn't worth anything, so I locked myself up and tried to be invisible.” Molly's eyes were soft with sympathy. “You think you aren't worth anything, and you shout at the world to try to prove it wrong. All that shouting and bravado, it's all to hide how scared you are that you're not worth it. You think you're just a temp who's not smart enough or strong enough for anybody.”

     Donna closed her eyes tight, trying to block out Molly's words. “Stop it,” she hissed. Molly was dredging up all her deepest fears.

     Molly fell silent. After a few moments, Donna got the nerve to open her eyes and look at her again. The other companion's expression held nothing but sympathy. “I was there too, once,” she said gently. “And I can tell you right now that it's a load of crap. You're a hero, Donna. Don't ever forget that. I can't even begin to list how many worlds you've saved at this point. And that wasn't anything the Doctor did or anything life in the TARDIS taught you, that was all in you.”

     Donna glanced away. “Yeah,” she said dully. The whole conversation was a little too close to home.

     “Hey.” Donna looked back at Molly. “You helped me once. Told me to talk to someone. And you were right. Sometimes, it's best to talk to somebody. I just want you to know that you can talk to me if you ever need to. And to remember that you're so much better than you think you are.” Her expression grew sad for a moment. “I went through the same thing. It was a lesson that took far too long to learn. I just hate to see you make the same mistakes I did. Just... remember what I said?”

     Donna gave a stiff little nod. “Sure. I mean, I'll try.” There was a few moments of awkward silence, then Molly went back to her book, and Donna was left alone with her thoughts.

     As much as she hated to even think about it, Molly was right. Deep down, she was completely and utterly terrified of not being good enough. So she shouted and argued and fought and blustered, because it was the only way to drown out the doubts in her own head. The fact that Molly had seen through that so easily made her unsettled. It wasn't that she didn't trust Molly – she was her friend, after all. But the thought that anyone could see through her so easily, see her like that and think of her as _weak_... it was one of her greatest fears.

     But maybe... maybe Molly was right. If talking had helped Molly, maybe it would help her too. She wasn't sure if she was ready yet, but at least when the time came, she knew she had at least one friend she could count on to listen. The Doctor would be there too, she knew, and even Lestrade, who she hadn't known as long, she felt like she could trust.

     She felt like there was still a lot about Molly Hooper she didn't understand. Donna'd known Molly could be understanding and empathetic, but she hadn't realized how shrewd she was, or that she would understand Donna so well. She certainly hadn't ever thought Molly was someone shy and as self-doubting as Donna herself. It was odd to think of someone so strong and enduring as similar to herself. Maybe that said something about Donna, maybe not. At the very least, it was a compliment, and she would take it.

     Maybe, just maybe, she could have a little of that strength one day.

**SCENEBREAK**

      _“'Now you must just take a hold on yourself, my dear. Everything’s going to be perfectly all right. You mustn’t lose your grip on yourself. If one of us is a nasty murderer we know quite well it isn’t you. Why, anyone would be crazy even to think of such a thing. You sit here and I’ll stay right by you; and don’t you worry any.'”_

     Molly had almost reached the end of her book. Barring any more interruptions, she was hopeful about finishing it before the Doctor returned from his trip. They'd been called to help with various problems since Donna and Molly had talked, and now, with the Universe willing, there wouldn't be any more surprises before the Doctor's return.

      _“Her voice died away as Poirot stood up.”_ Donna shifted beside her.

      _“The Wagon Lit conductor was hovering in the doorway.”_ There was the sound of footsteps nearby and worried whispers. Molly did her best to block them out.

      _“'You permit that I stay, Monsieur?'”_ More footsteps. Molly turned a page.

      _“'Certainly, Michel.'”_ There were quite a few people gathered now, whispering and speaking in worried tones. Molly cleared her throat and tried to ignore them.

      _“Poirot cleared his throat.”_ Molly overheard words like “Something's wrong,” and “They must be in trouble.”

      _“'Messieurs et Mesdames, I will speak in English, since I think all of you know a little of that language. We are here to investigate the death of...'” _Donna glanced at her questioning. Even more people had gathered, some employees, some resort guests. _“'The death of...'”_ Molly sighed and, reluctantly, bitterly, set aside her book.__

__“This had better be an actual problem this time,” she grumbled as she and Donna stood once more from their chairs and approached the gathered group._ _

__There were several people gathered around, all wearing various looks of concerned. Donna grabbed the attention of an older woman. “What's going on?” she asked._ _

__“Those folks that went to see the sapphire waterfall, they're coming back now,” the old woman confided. “They say something terrible has happened! Oh, I do hope the Professor's alright, he seemed like such a good chap at breakfast.”_ _

__Molly felt cold fear in her veins. She and Donna exchanged a worried glance, but it looked like there wasn't anything they could do this time, but wait._ _

__**SCENEBREAK** _ _

__By the time the truck came back, Molly and Donna knew everything that had happened. They'd managed to wrangle it out of the manager, who was feeling gracious since they'd helped out that day. The whole thing was horrifying just to hear about. Molly couldn't imagine how the Doctor must be feeling right now._ _

__When the survivors departed from the truck, Molly and Donna stood by silently, unable to meet the eyes of those the Doctor had failed, and who had failed the Doctor. At last, he stepped off. He looked older than when they had seen him last. There was a sort of lingering terror in his eyes, and a deep grief, for those who had died that day. No doubt he blamed himself._ _

__Molly wanted to say something, anything to make up for what had happened, but she knew all too well that sometimes words just wouldn't do. Donna seemed to know, too. As the Doctor approached them, they both pulled him into a tight hug, offering comfort in the only way that would mean anything right now._ _

__**SCENEBREAK** _ _

__“What do you think it was?” Donna asked later, when some time had passed and the Doctor was up to talking again. They'd given him the time he needed, and some space, but he seemed a bit better now. Or at least, on the way to it. Molly knew the events of today wouldn't be easily forgotten._ _

__“No idea,” the Doctor admitted._ _

__“Is it still alive?” Molly asked quietly._ _

__The Doctor sighed. “Well, if it could survive all these years out there, I doubt the Hostess did anything to kill it. It's just back out there, on the unliveable planet.” There was a certain bitterness to his words._ _

__“So it's still out there?” The Doctor just gave Donna a meaningful look. She let out a breath. “Well, you'd better tell them. This lot.” She gestured vaguely at the resort._ _

__“Yeah,” the Doctor said, rubbing the back of his neck, “They can build a Leisure Palace somewhere else. Let this planet keep on turning round an Xtonic star, in silence.” There was still that old, terrified look in his eyes._ _

__Molly snorted, trying to lighten the mood. “Maybe they'd better not. I don't know that these guys know how to run a resort without getting themselves all killed.” The Doctor gave her a questioning look. “Long story.”_ _

__The Doctor gave a faint shadow of his usual grin. Molly could see how much this had all shaken him. “Molto bene.”_ _

__She smiled back. “Molto bene.”_ _

__The Time Lord flinched, the terror flaring briefly in his eyes. “No, don't do that. Don't.”_ _

__Molly flinched. Way to be insensitive. “Sorry.” She knew the Doctor would need some help to heal from this. She, Donna, and Lestrade would be there to help. After all, that's what they did for each other. Somehow, everyone on the TARDIS had come there to heal, and that's what those friends did best for each other._ _

__The Doctor would be okay. And someday, Donna would too. She just knew it._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: All passages from "Murder on the Orient Express" belong to Agatha Christie and whoever all owns the rights to her books now. All lines/characters/plots from "Doctor Who" belong to BBC, but that goes without saying.
> 
> I told you guys this was going to be a short one. I mainly wanted to use this to both have a bit of lighthearted fun and to get some serious conversations in between Molly and Donna. I think I succeeded on both counts, I hope you agree.
> 
> Next up is an original episode, which will take the place of Turn Left (sorry guys, I just don't have a place for Turn Left in this fic, but I hope this episode makes up for it, hint hint.) After that, only two more to go, and I think you know which two. We're almost at the end here, folks. Let's see if I can actually finish this fanfic before the year ends.


	65. The North Wind Blows: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A call from Earth changes everything.

     The flea market at Rae Mo-tar was stunning. Stalls everywhere, so many different kinds of people and aliens, so many colors and interesting wares. There was some sort of blue alien drink that the Doctor offered them, Surprisingly sweet, with a hint of watermelon and something alien she didn't recognize. Molly had already bought some sort of light that flitted around in a little glowing ball, and she'd gotten some sort of smooth, metal, alien necklace thing for Lestrade. Donna was surprised he agreed to wear it – Greg didn't seem like the kind of bloke to wear jewelry. But later, she overheard him asking the Doctor to help engrave some sort of Circular Gallifreyan on it so it would match Molly's fob watch necklace.

     Donna had wandered off a bit, looking over a few of the stalls, when a woman in red and gold robes pulled her aside. “Tell your fortune, lady,” she crooned. “The future predicted. Your life foretold.”

     The ginger woman tried to wave her off. “Oh, no thanks.”

     “Don't you want to know if you're going to be happy?” the fortune teller pressed. She was still smiling, but something about it was slightly unnerving.

     Donna tried to leave. “I'm happy right now, thanks,” she insisted.

     The fortune teller tried one more ploy. “You got red hair. The reading's free for red hair.”

     That made Donna pause. She actually considered it. She was about to say yes.

     Then her phone rang, and her path changed.

     Cursing, Donna dug through her pockets and bags, trying to find her phone. The fortune teller watched, slightly baffled, as she finally pulled out her phone and answered it. “Hello?”

     “ _Donna!_ ” a familiar voice greeted with glee.

     Donna blinked in surprise. “Grandad! Oh, it's good to hear from you.” She was grinning in delight. It had only been two weeks since she'd told Molly that she wasn't in any hurry to get home, but there was still a feeling of warm relief at hearing her grandfather's voice again.

     “ _It's good to hear from you too, darling,_ ” Wilf said warmly. “ _How's that alien of yours, that Doctor?_ ”

     “He's fine, Grandad,” Donna assured him. She glanced over at the lanky Time Lord, who was looking at some machinery bits and baubles. “Been through some hard times, but he's doing alright.”

     “ _Good. And Molly and Greg?_ ”

     Donna wasn't really surprised that Wilf remembered their names after meeting them once. He was just that kind of a guy. “They're doing great. Much better than before.”

     “ _That's wonderful,_ ” Wilf said.

     “So, what occasions the call?” Donna asked curiously.

     “ _Well, there's some wonderful news I wanted to share with you, but it's not something to be said over the phone,_ ” Wilf explained. “ _Could you get that wonderful ship of yours to land on Earth. Say... three weeks from now?_ ”

     Donna felt a flash of amusement. “I need to know when 'now' is, Grandad.”

     Wilf gave her the exact date and time, which Donna promised to relay to the Doctor. “We'll be there soon, Grandad.”

     “ _See you soon, darling._ ” Wilf hung up.

     Donna flipped the phone shut, turning to the fortune teller. “Sorry, I've got to run. Maybe some other time.” She didn't notice the fortune teller's irritated glance as she walked away, heading back towards her traveling companions.

     “Doctor!” The Time Lord in question looked up. “Could you take me back to Earth for a bit?” She explained the call she had gotten, and the date Wilf had requested.

     The Doctor grinned. “Sure! We'll drop you off and head somewhere else for the day.”

     Molly and Lestrade exchanged a few words before the woman spoke up. “Actually, could you drop us off as well? We'd like to visit Sherlock and John for a bit.”

     He nodded. “Sure. I'll drop you off at Baker Street first, then I'll head back here. There's some pieces I wanted to pick up for the TARDIS.” The Doctor glanced at Donna. “Can you make it to your house from Baker Street?”

     “Yeah, I'll just need fare for a cab.” The Doctor pulled out some money from his larger-on-the-inside pockets, which Donna accepted with a slightly smug grin. They all headed back into the TARDIS, waiting as the Doctor started it up and plugged in the controls. The usual shaking and shuddering of the ship ensued, which the four of them barely reacted to anymore.

     When the ship had landed, the three humans headed for the door, the Doctor staying by the console behind them. “Call me when you want me to pick you up,” he said. “It might take me a bit, I've got quite a bit to buy.”

     Lestrade tossed the Doctor his phone, saying, “It'll be fine, we should be good on Earth for a couple hours.”

     With that, the humans departed from the TARDIS, heading out into the streets of their home planet.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly blinked at the sudden rush of sunlight as she stepped back onto the planet of her birth. People were walking and milling about in the familiar crowds, as alien to her now as the flea market of Rae Mon-tar. Once she, Greg, and Donna were all out, she glanced back to see the TARDIS vanishing behind them with a _vworpp, vworpp._

     She shook her head. “Right. To Baker Street.” The building itself was right across the street from them; Molly and Greg started towards it, Donna trailing behind.

     “I wouldn't mind saying hi quick,” she explained as she followed them to the door. “I've got plenty of time to head home.”

     Mrs. Hudson answered the door. She looked rather surprised to see the three travelers there. “Oh, goodness, I wasn't expecting you here.”

     Molly smiled. “Hi, we just wanted to pop in and say hi to Sherlock and John. Are they in?”

     “Well, yes, but... oh, come on in.” She ushered the travelers into the building, closing the door softly behind them. “I just have something I have to take care of quick. Be back in a moment, dears.” The older woman scurried off, leaving the three people behind. With a shrug, they all headed upstairs.

     Sherlock was in the kitchen, tinkering with various test tubes containing questionable substances, and John was on the couch, typing on his laptop. They both looked up as the travelers walked in. John smiled. “Oh, hello again. Didn't know if you'd be dropping by today. Is the Doctor coming?”

     Molly was surprised by John's non-nonchalant tone, but she supposed knowing your friends traveled in time and space made you less surprised when they randomly turned up on your doorstep. “No, he's off shopping.”

     “Ah, shame,” John said quite casually. “Then again, I guess this isn't his sort of thing.”

     Now Molly was completely lost. Before she could ask exactly what he was talking about, Sherlock cut her off with a short, “John, they don't know.”

     John looked back at him in surprise. “Really?”

     “It's obvious,” he said, not looking back up from his work.

     “Hi to you too,” Donna retorted, earning a small smirk from the detective. “We don't know what?”

     Sherlock glanced up, looking ready to speak, but his gaze slid past her. He chuckled. “I think you're about to find out.”

     Molly, Donna, and Lestrade turned to see Wilfred Mott, Donna's grandfather, standing at the doorway with Mrs. Hudson. Donna blinked in surprise. “What're you doing here?”

     Wilf hesitated. “I was going to meet you at home in a while to tell you, but since you're here, I might as well tell you now.” He grasped Mrs. Hudsons hands with both of his, and Molly didn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to notice the glint of a ring on both of their hands. “Martha and I are getting married today.”

     The three humans gaped at Mrs. Hudson and Wilf. Molly was the first to get her voice back. “Whoa. Um, congratulations.” She really wasn't sure what else to say. It was such an odd circumstance, these two people, one of which she'd known for a while, one she hadn't known very long, suddenly getting married out of the blue. But they were both glowing with so much joy that her surprise soon melted away, replaced by happiness for the couple.

     Donna's eyes were wide with shock. “You're getting _married_?” She didn't seem opposed to the idea in any way, just surprised. Molly supposed it had to be seriously weird to think of your grandfather as having new romance in his life.

     Wilf nodded. “After the whole thing with Moriarty, we decided to go out for lunch, which turned into a weekly thing, which... well. Here we are.”

     "We would've called you, but Wilfred wanted to tell you in person," Mrs. Hudson explained. "It's not going to be a big affair, just a few people, signing papers, saying our vows. But we wanted you to be there."

     Donna blinked. “You want me to be there?” Her shocked expression wavered, hovering on uncertainty.

     “Of course I want you to be there sweetheart,” Wilf said warmly. “There's no one better I'd want to share this with.”

     His granddaughter glanced between the two of them. She must've seen the same happiness and warmth for each other in their eyes that Molly did. Her expression softened, and she pulled her grandfather into a tight hug. "Of course I'll be there," she said with a grin. "I'm really happy for you."

     Wilf hugged her back. "Thanks, sweetheart." After a few moments, he pulled back. "Now, we're driving down in a few hours."

     "Sherlock and John are coming too," Mrs. Hudson said. "I don't really have any family left, and they agreed to come." It went without saying that she considered them closer to family than tenants. Molly had seen how much she doted on the flatmates.

     “In a few hours, we'll be Mrs. and Mr. Hudson,” Wilf said with an almost child-like glee.

     Molly raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Hudson?” she questioned.

     Mrs. Hudson actually blushed. “I've been Martha Hudson for many years now. It may have been my husband's name, but I never saw a reason to change it, and I just can't see myself with any other name now. Besides, Wilfred says he'll enjoy the change.”

     “I've never been terribly afraid of change,” Wilf commented. “It's always done well for me in the past.”

     Molly considered it. “Wilfred Hudson. Sounds nice.”

     Wilf smiled. “Thank you, Molly,” he said warmly. “I'm glad to hear you're doing better, by the way.”

     The companion blinked in surprise. She was wondering how he could possibly know, when she noticed Donna shifting, looking slightly guilty. Donna must've told him, which meant he must've asked. Molly couldn't help but feel touched that Donna's grandfather, a man she'd met all of one time, had cared enough to check on how she was doing.

     Maybe there was something to having a family on Earth.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Since they weren't invited to the wedding, Greg and Molly decided to find other ways to pass the time. Greg decided to check in with Scotland Yard, and Molly went off to take a walk. She really didn't have any other business on Earth. She knew she definitely didn't have a job at St. Bards anymore, and she didn't even know whether she had a flat anymore. She never had many friends other than John and Sherlock, and she didn't have any family left. It was just now hitting her how few ties she had left to the planet of her birth.

     Molly headed down an alley, lost in thought. In an earlier life, she would've been worried walking down a dark alley alone like this, but now she barely even thought about it. She knew that if any idiot tried to mess with her, she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

     She was so distracted, she almost missed the woman running past her. The woman ran a few paces, then slowed to a halt, looking confused. Well, maybe not confused. More... searching. As though looking for someone.

     “Are you alright?” Molly asked. The woman didn't seem hurt at all, but there was something strange about a woman just running down an alleyway like that.

     The woman turned to look at her in surprise. “Me? Oh yeah, I'm fine.” Normally, Molly would've left it at that, but there was something about this woman. She had an air about her that made Molly focus on her a little more. And something about her seemed familiar. Molly didn't think she'd seen the dyed blonde hair and blue jacket before, but still, something about her...

     “You sure? You look a bit... disoriented.”

     She shook her head. “I'm fine. It's just, I'm looking for someone. Someone I haven't seen in a long time.” The woman glanced at Molly, looking her over. “What about you?”

     Molly shrugged. “Just thinking.”

     “Oh really?” the woman asked. “What about?” She seemed less distracted now, seeming honestly interested in what Molly was saying.

     “About home, I guess. Mine seems to have changed.” The woman just listened calmly. Once upon a time, Molly would've never opened up to a stranger like this, but times had changed. “I knew that a long time ago, I guess it's just surprised me how little is left for me here.”

     The woman shrugged. “That happens sometimes. I guess everyone moves on eventually. The place you are isn't always the place you're going to end up. It can take a while to find where you're supposed to be. But once you've found it, you'll know.” They started walking, heading out of the alley and back into the city.

     Molly smiled softly. “I found mine three years ago, and I know I'm there to stay,” she said confidently. “It's just weird to go back sometimes, you know?”

     The other woman seemed to grow sad for a moment. “Sometimes, going back is the only way to get where you're supposed to be,” she said quietly.

     Molly listened with interest. “Is that what you're doing now? Trying to get back to where you were?”

     The woman nodded with a grin. “I've been searching for a long time, and I'm so close now. I've almost found him.”

     That made Molly grin. “Oh, him eh?”

     She laughed. “Yeah, him. A friend of mine. I lost him, a while ago, and I think I'm really close to finding him again.”

     Molly had just met this woman a few minutes ago, but she had a feeling that wasn't the way she grinned when she was only talking about a friend. “Just a friend?” she asked.

     The woman's grin faded a little. “Maybe. I'm not sure.” Molly was curious, but she knew better than to ask more. That would be too much, even for such an open stranger.

     As the two of them walked, they came upon a bank. The woman perked up, glancing inside. “You think they've got a pay phone? I left my phone with T... with some friends of mine. I meant to bring it, but this was a bit of a last-minute trip.”

     Molly nodded. “Sure. I can spot you the cash, if you need?” She wasn't sure why exactly she was so interested in this stranger, but to be honest, this was hardly the strangest thing she'd ever done.

     “Ta,” the women replied. Molly gave her a few coin, and they stepped into the bank.

     They'd only taken a few steps inside when two people slid up to the door, standing menacingly at the rest of the people inside. Molly noticed them first, the other woman only moments behind. They stared at the two men uneasily, glanced back at the rest of the room after a few moments. That's when someone's hand moved, and Molly saw what he was reaching for.

     “Gun,” she warned automatically. She pulled the other woman and herself to the ground, greeted a few moments later by the sounds of shots ringing out. There were cries of panic from the crowd, and harsh shouting from the shooter. Eventually, the crowd's cries quieted into murmurs of terror, and the shooter's voice could be plainly heard for the first time.

     “Thank you.” There were a lot of people in front of Molly, and she couldn't see the shooter very well. “Now, if you all could stay quiet for a few, I have some business to attend to. All you need to know right now is that I don't want anyone calling for help, and that I will kill anyone who decides that rule doesn't apply to them. Understood?” There were a few quiet sounds of agreement. This seemed to be enough for the shooter, for she fell silent.

     Molly didn't feel panicked at all. Yes, this was a dangerous situation, and if she made the wrong move someone could get killed. But right now, she felt the same calm that always befell her whenever some new danger presented itself. Another day of danger and excitement, what a surprise. Only now she'd managed to drag a civilian into all this.

     Before she could try to comfort the women, to her surprise, the woman tried to comfort her. “Listen, we're going to be okay,” she said in a firm, calming tone. “I have friends waiting on standby. If they don't hear from me in a certain amount of time, they'll come looking for me.”

     Molly blinked in surprise. “Oh. Um, okay. Same here.”

     “And there's this man... that friend of mine?” Molly nodded. “Well, he deals with stuff like this a lot. It's sort of his job. We used to get into crazy messes like this all the time.” A fond smile flitted onto her face. “It was me and the Doctor, against the world. So don't worry, I can get you out of this. I know how.”

     Molly felt like she'd just slammed into a wall. “Wait a minute. The Doctor? You know the Doctor?” She could barely get her voice to work. Whatever she had been expecting from this woman, it hadn't been this.

     The woman looked at her in equal shock and surprise. “Yeah. Do you?”

     A horrible, wonderful, impossible realization dawned on her. She _knew_ where she'd seen those dark eyes and quirked smile before. It was ten types of impossible. There was no way it was her. It _wasn't_. But there wasn't anyone else it could be. Molly gaped at the woman, the same face she had seen in the page of a foolish man's journal, and spoke a name she thought she'd never hear again. “Rose Tyler. You're Rose Tyler.”

     The woman – Rose – seemed even more shocked now. “Who are you? How do you know who I am?”

     Molly couldn't bring herself to answer. Her mind was scrambling trying to figure out what exactly was going on. She was on Earth, in her own universe, with Rose Tyler, the lost love of the Doctor's life, in a bank that was being held up.

     This had changed _everything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I am really cranking these out. I wrote this entire chapter in one day. Given the speeds I've written at in the past, especially when I was writing TWWC, this should not be this mind-blowing. But seriously, I haven't written this much this quickly in a while.
> 
> Anyway, I finally got to drop a few bombs I've been waiting to drop for a good, long while. Number one, Rose is back, which should come as a surprise to no one. What might come as a surprise is, despite how much I adore Rose Tyler and worship the ground she walks on, I really am bad at writing her. I think I'm going to watch some Rose episodes to get better reacquainted with her voice and tone.
> 
> Bomb number two, which I hoped surprised and delighted many of you, was the marriage of Wilfred Mott and Mrs. Hudson. Come on, you know they're adorable. As for why I chose to change Wilf's name rather than Mrs. Hudsons, this is mostly explained in the story itself. One of the reasons, however, is because I couldn't very well take a character is who constantly referred to only as Mrs. Hudson and suddenly change her name, could I? It would be very confusing, and sort of take away from her identity. I could've just had her keep her name and have him keep his, but somehow, I feel like Wilf would love a change like that. He's seriously the most adorable thing ever.
> 
> So, onwards with Rose and Molly shenanigans leading up to the two-parter to end it all. I hope you all enjoy the episode I've (mostly) got planned out.
> 
> Now that it's 3:30 AM and I'm already mentally kicking myself for staying up this late when I have to get up at 9 for class, I'm going to end this comment.
> 
> Also, ever notice how my author's comments seem to be longer the later I stay up? Anyway, 'til next chapter.


	66. The North Wind Blows: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Rose try to figure out what to do next.

     Molly was still reeling from the revelations at hand, but she was forced to get her scrambled thoughts back in order as there were the sounds of more shots, and an angry shout.

     “What did we say about no talking?” There was the sound of someone getting slapped, and a moan. Molly felt a shiver of fear, but it sounded like no one had gotten shot. The few civilians on the lower floor with them shuddered in fear.

     Molly was itching to get a better view of the main shooter, the woman from before. With the upper floor hidden from view, it was hard to tell how many shooters there were, but there was the woman who had spoken, the man who had just fired a shot, and the two at the door, at least. Too many for them to overpower themselves. In a straight fight, anyway. They'd have to be sneakier about this.

     Rose seemed to have put aside her own confusion, and was thinking along the same lines. “We need a closer look,” she murmured, trying to peer over the heads of the people around them. They were in the front of the bank, and there was a series of stairs in front of them, leading to the center of the bank where the shooter and most of the civilians were, and blocking their view of their faces.

     Molly glanced sublty at the two men at the door. If she and Rose moved for the stairs, they would see and stop them. “We need to get them out of the way,” she said quietly. “Can you fight?” Her tone had become brisk and cool. She had thrown herself back into a soldier's mindset to get them both out of this alive.

     Rose looked at her in surprise, but gave the tiniest shade of a nod. “Yeah, I can fight. But we're not killing them.” There was a firmness and conviction to her tone that gave Molly the feeling this woman had given orders before. Molly couldn't help but be impressed. She could see why the Doctor had brought her on board.

     “No, we won't kill them,” Molly promised. She felt as strongly as anyone on the TARDIS about taking life. However, the guards would have to be incapacitated somehow. Her gaze was caught by a nearby door, likely to a storage closet of sorts. She grinned. “Perfect.”

     Molly Hooper and Rose Tyler whispered with heads bowed, drawing out a plan. The guards watched them carefully, but all they could see was two women crouching together, so they thought nothing of it. After a few moments, Molly made her move. She got to her feet, immediately drawing the attention of the guards. One of them raised his gun, growling threateningly, “Get back on the ground.”

     “But I can't be here,” Molly said in an American accent, letting an edge of fear enter her voice. “I mean, I'm not supposed to be here. I'm just a tourist, I can't be killed here. This can't be happening.” She kept approaching the guards, letting her posture become loose and submissive, and her expression fearful.

     The other guard raised his gun as well. “Ma'am, sit down, or we'll make you sit down.”

     “I'm just in from Florida,” she babbled on, “I'm here to see the city, I'm such a fan of BBC. Is it because I'm American? I mean, I'm sorry we beat you in the war and all, but I love England. I mean, God save the queen, yeah?”

     His finger moved toward the trigger. “Ma'am – ” He was cut off by Rose slamming the back of his head with a strange device. She'd managed to sneak through the crowd to come up behind the two men. The guard slumped to the floor, unconcious. The other guard moved to shoot, but Molly had his gun from his hands in moments and was poinitng it coolly at him. He stared at her in shock, as though wondering how his gun had betrayed him so easily.

     “Don't even think about it,” Molly warned coldly. She had no intention of shooting to kill, but he didn't know that.

     Reluctantly, the guard raised his hands in surrender. As soon as he did, Molly stepped back, and Rose swiftly knocked him out. Once both guards were unconcious, the rest of the civilians in the room stared at the two women in shock, eyes wide.

     Rose grinned at Molly. “Great job there,” she praised.

     “Thanks.” Molly leaned down, grabbing one of the men around the torso and dragging him towards the storage cloest, Rose doing the same. “I've had a bit of theater background,” she joked, remembering Shakespeare. “Molly Hooper, by the way.”

     “Rose Tyler. Pleasure.” They left the men locked up in the storage closet, the door blocked by a nearby chair. Voices came from upstairs. “What are those two playing at?” Footsteps approached from the top of the stairs.

     Molly glanced at the stairs, wondering where to go next, but Rose made a decision first. “Everyone, out,” she called quietly. She and Molly headed for the front doors, pulling them open for the civilians. The men and women stared at them in shock for a few moments before bolting for the door, racing out into the streets. Once they were all out, Molly made a move to go back inside, but Rose pulled her away, taking her towards the side of the door. They waited just outside, able to just hear the outraged voices from inside.

     “How the hell did those people get out?!” The voice was female, but it wasn't the main shooter. “Where did Fra and Eren go?!”

     “Nevermind them,” another, a man, growled. “Go tell Helmar, I'll keep an eye on the door. We can't let anyone else get out.”

     Molly let out a slow breath. Helmar. That must be the main shooter. An odd name, but at least they had a name now. A step in the right direction.

     She turned to Rose, hissing, “What are we doing out here? We can't help those people if we're out here.”

     Rose started walking to the side of the building, Molly following. “Well we weren't doing much good in there, were we?” she pointed out. Her gaze was darting around the walls of the bank as they started to circle around the back. “Besides, I figure, we can't do much stuck with the other hostages. We'll need to find another way in.”

     Molly realized what Rose was getting at. “A back door. Brilliant.” She grinned.

     They searched for a while before finding what they need. A door around the back, labeled _“Employees Only.”_ The shooters probably wouldn't have bothered with this door, but Molly decided to be careful anyway. She pushed past Rose, the gun still in her hand as she carefully pushed the door open. She had the gun up, ready if anyone was inside, but there was no one there. Once she was satisfied there was no danger, she let the gun clatter to the ground.

     The hallway was dark and metal, clearly some back hallway to the rest of the bank. Rose and Molly quickly determined that there was nowhere to go but forward, so forward they went.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Rose Tyler had prepared for her return to the universe in every way possible, and she'd still managed to be caught off guard.

     It wasn't like she hadn't known the Doctor had traveled with humans before, and likely would again. She'd known, of course. And it had been a couple years, maybe even longer for him, she couldn't expect the Doctor to wait for her forever. After all, her return was supposed to be impossible. But she couldn't help but be a tiny bit hurt that the Doctor had moved on already, and wary of the woman beside her.

     She knew it was a selfish thought. The Doctor didn't deserve to be alone. And if it was just a friend he was traveling through time and space with, someone like Sarah Jane, she wouldn't mind in the least. But there was a question that had been asked on a beach. She had answered, and he had not. There was that small, irrational fear that maybe he'd answered it with someone else.

     As for Molly herself, Rose liked her well enough so far. She seemed smart, capable, sensitive. There was a strange coldness to her sometimes, a little bit of a soldier-like efficiency, but she definitely had the spirit of a time traveler. Still, Rose couldn't push back that tiny bit of jealousy.

     However, times had changed. She wasn't the same young, uncertain girl she'd been when she'd met Sarah Jane. She had learned from that encounter, and she was going to learn more about this Molly Hooper before passing any kind of judgement. She seemed like an interesting person.

     Rose's worries began to fade a bit as she thought more about the Doctor. She was so close now, _so_ close. She was almost going to see him again. And whatever she felt for him, whatever his answer on the beach would have been, she was just overjoyed at the thought of seeing him again, of seeing the TARDIS, seeing all of time and space. She had missed that life so much, and she had missed the man who had shared all of it with her.

     She almost had it back, and these shooters weren't going to stand in her way.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly could see Rose studying her. The silence carried on as she let the woman get her bearings back. She still had no idea how on Earth Rose had escaped her parallel universe, but she'd let Rose explain that in her own time. For now, as Rose was studying her, Molly studied Rose.

     John Smith had captured Rose very well in his sketch of her. She had the same sort of determined set to her expression, the same strength shining in her eyes. She was a little taller than Molly, wearing a blue leather jacket and her blond hair at about shoulder-length. It was odd, seeing the woman she'd heard so much about standing in front of her.

     Rose was clearly clever, as she'd figured out about the back door and how to help get them out of there. She had been the first to move to get the civilians out, so she was compassionate. Molly could clearly see why the Doctor would have taken her on board in the first place. And there was something about her expression, the way her eyes had shown when she shooters had shown up – she had the same mischevious excitement in her eyes that the Doctor had when he was presented with danger.

     The blonde woman was the first to speak. “So, how'd you meet the Doctor then?”

     “At a hospital.” They countined on, their footfalls echoing softly in the hallway. “I was a pathologist there, he was pretending to be a patient. Long story short, we ended up on the moon. I helped him out. After it was all over, he invited me to travel on the TARDIS.”

     Rose nodded softly to herself. “How long have you been traveling with him?”

     “Three years. Well, sort of.” Rose gave her a questioning look. “It's kind of a long story.” Molly was better at being open, but now was not the time or place to go into specifics about the Year. She was having trouble reading the look in Rose's eyes, until it hit her – she was jealous. Or rather, unsure whether she should be jealous.

     Molly grinned to herself, making Rose look puzzled at the change in expression. Obviously, Rose had nothing to worry about on _that_ front. The Doctor was and had always been her best friend, nothing more, and the only other female on the TARDIS would rather face a fleet of Daleks than ever consider the Doctor in a romantic light.

     “You know,” she said casually, “the Doctor told me about you.”

     Rose blinked in surprise. “Really?” She seemed surprised that the Doctor would mention her at all. Molly wasnt surprised – the Doctor rarely spoke about past companions, save one notable exception. Rose tried to pass it off with a light laugh. “Only good things, I hope?”

     “Only the best,” Molly assured her. “Actually, he mentioned you first thing after I stepped on the TARDIS.” Rose's expression wavered between uncertain and hopeful. “He told me the last person he'd traveled with had been a great woman named Rose. He said I was welcome on the TARDIS, but I wasn't there to replace you, and I would be wrong to think I ever could.”

     The blonde woman stared at Molly in shock. “He... he said that?” There was a tremor of hope in her voice. Molly could see a familiar expression in her eyes, the same mix of love and loss and longing that the Doctor wore whenever he mentioned Rose. If Molly had ever wondered whether the mysterious Rose had returned the Doctor's obvious affections, there was no longer a need.

     Molly nodded encouragingly. “Yeah, he did. And he told me about Canary Wharf.” Rose's dark gaze grew sad. “He's missed you. A lot,” she told the woman gently.

     Rose sighed. “I missed him too.” She glanced at Molly uncertainly. “How is he?”

     Molly smiled. “He's alright. He had a bit of a rough spot a few weeks ago, but he's doing alright. Donna's been doing a lot to help him.”

     Rose's expression grew wary again. “Who's Donna?”

     “Another companion,” Molly explained. “She joined two years after I did. She's kinda loud, but she's a really good friend. My friend Sherlock traveled with us for a while, but he's back on Earth now, and my boyfriend Greg's traveling with us now that he's left.

     That made Rose grin. “Your boyfriend? The Doctor let your boyfriend on the TARDIS?” She laughed, apparently at a memory. “What, he does domestic now?”

     Molly laughed too. “Well, he knew Greg for a while before that. Besides, the Doctor doesn't really have a reason to hold a grudge against someone I'm dating. Donna either, if it came to that.” She gave Rose a pointed glance, causing the woman to look both embarrased and a little pleased. It was the closest she was going to come to refer to the Doctor's obvious head-over-heels love for this human woman. If that was a discussion that was going to be had, it was going to be between Rose and the Doctor.

      _The Doctor._ Oh god, she'd forgotten about him. He had to know. She had to tell him. “Hold on.” She stopped walking and pulled out her phone, dialing in the number for Greg's phone.

     Rose glanced at it in surprise. “You had that on you? Why did you lend me that for free instead of giving me money for the pay phone?”

     “I wasn't eager to test what would happen if I gave a stranger a phone that could call anywhere in time and space,” Molly said without looking up. “Imagine what a wrong number would do.” She finished dialing in the number and made the call, holding the phone up to her ear. It rang a few times. “Come on, pick up your phone,” she muttered irritably.

     Finally, the Doctor answered. “ _Hello?_ ”

     “Doctor!” Rose looked up, eyes burning with hope and longing. “Listen, are you still on Rae Mo-tar?”

     “ _Yeah, and I may have gotten into a bit of a situation,_ ” the Time Lord said as casually as he could manage.

     Molly rolled her eyes with a groan. “Great, of course you'd do that now.”

     “ _Why, is something wrong?_ ”

     Molly started to answer, then stopped herself. This wasn't the kind of bomb she wanted to drop over the phone. Most likely, he wouldn't even believe her unless Rose was standing in front of him herself, and she knew he deserved to hear this in person, and Rose deserved to be there when he heard. “Well, there's a bit of a situation, but we're fine.” Immediately, she cursed her choice of words.

     “ _We? What's up, is Wilf okay?_ ”

     “Wilf's fine,” Molly said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “So are Donna and Greg. I've just got someone helping me this woman... Rosaline.” Rose looked very confused at this point, but she didn't say anything.

     “ _That's good. You take care of yourself, okay? When do you want to meet up again?_ ”

     Molly tried to think of a proper answer. “Three sound okay? At Baker Street?”

     “ _Sounds great. See you then._ ” He hung up, leaving Molly wondering whether it was worth calling him at all.

     “You didn't tell him about me.” Rose's voice had a challenge in it.

     Molly turned to look at her. “It didn't seem like the kind of thing to tell someone over the phone. Besides, we'll see him in a few hours. It'll be worth it to see the look on his face.”

     Rose considered that for a few moments, then nodded. “Yeah. It'll all be worth it.”

     Molly glanced further down the hallway. “This bank's got to have security, yeah? Wonder if there's a room we could keep an eye on what's going on. It'd help more if we knew who we're dealing with.”

     The blonde woman nodded. “Great idea. Maybe we can figure out what they're here for too.”

     “Well, it's a bank. Three guesses what they're after.”

     Rose shrugged. “Well, who knows. Stranger things have happened then robbing a bank for something other than money.”

     “Yeah, I guess,” Molly allowed. Now that they had a plan, Molly was starting to feel that strange excitement that any adventure offered her. Rose clearly felt it too. She gave a grin scarily reminiscent of the Doctor's, and gestured for Molly to start down the hallway first.

     Molly started off, grinning back at Rose. “Allons-y!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fast one. Hopefully, I can keep this up, but I have an insanely busy week so it's doubtful.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy some Rose and Molly heart-to-heart. And I get the feeling someone might point out that Rose is a bad character because of how jealous she is. I'm just going to address my thoughts on this now. Yes, Rose can be jealous sometimes. She's a person, she has flaws, this is one of them. But she learns to get past her jealousy like an adult, and she's also kind, compassionate, smart, quick-witted, and adventurous. I will just say that I adore Rose and I'm only slightly less protective of her than I am of Molly.
> 
> Anyway, I'll post again soon.


	67. The North Wind Blows: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Rose try to find out who they're up against.

     Rose and Molly managed to make it out of the hallway, and into a cross-section of hallways. With a bit of navigation, they found what appeared to be the security room. They had to stop just outside the door; inside was a woman with a gun on her hip. She wasn't wearing any sort of uniform or anything, so Rose thought it was safe to assume it wasn't a security guard.

     Molly tossed an alien trinket from her pocket further down the hallway; the _clinking_ of the coin echoed loudly in the metal hallway. The woman stepped out of the room to see what it was, and Molly and Rose were about to knock her out quickly. They dragged her further down the hallway, then headed back to the security room and locked the door. She wouldn't stay out forever, but hopefully they'd have enough time to take a look at what was going on and find out who they were up against.

     The current companion finished locking up the door while Rose sat in front of the monitors. Her experience on the TARDIS and working for Torchwood in the parallel universe had given her some proper computer smarts. She managed to locate a camera that had a view of the main lobby, and one that showed behind the counter, where the main shooter, Helmar, was. Molly came over and looked over Rose's shoulder as she zoomed in on the cameras.

     Helmar was standing with two other people with guns. They stood still behind the counter as she paced in front of them. _“We need to speed this up,_ ” she snapped, her straight black hair sweeping behind her shoulder as she paced. The screen was too small to see her eyes, but even from that size, Rose could see the hardness in her expression.

     One of the men watching her spoke. _“We still don't know who attacked Fra and Eren. There could be someone else at work here. I understand we have a deadline, but we should be careful too.”_

     Helmar whirled to face him, tone sharp as she said, _“We can't afford to be careful. You know what's coming. What's worse, getting in trouble with a couple humans, or staying too long and paying for it?”_ Apparently, that was enough to shut up the man right away. Rose could see how tense all of them seemed. But more importantly, she latched onto a certain word, and she could see Molly had too. _Humans._

     The other man, obviously as alien as the other two, spoke up. _“Is this really worth it?”_ His voice was tight with fear. _“If... if it's really going to happen, then why are we still here? We should be putting as much distance between us and this miserable rock as possible.”_

     Helmar shook her head dismissively, resuming her pacing. _“There's scavenging left to do. If Earth really is going, any relics we can get our hands on will be worth millions. The last relics of the lost planet. We'll be rich. Now get Reeve up here, we need to get into these vaults.”_ She let out a frustrated hiss. _“What is it with humans and locking up their currency?”_

     Rose leaned back in her chair, letting out a slow breath. “Well. Nothing like aliens sticking up a bank to get you back in the swing of things.”

     Molly, however, apparently had her mind on something else. Her expression and tone were serious as she said, “They were talking about something coming. Something bad.” She looked at Rose. “Any idea what that could be?”

     The blonde woman sobered. In her joy at hearing about the Doctor and the craziness happening at the bank, she had almost forgotten the other reason she had come here. “There's a darkness coming,” she said quietly. “I've seen it, in other worlds. That's part of why I'm here. In parallel worlds, all over, the stars are going out.”

     Molly looked chilled at the words. “The stars are going out? How?”

     Rose shook her head. “I don't know. I just knew that the only person who might know what was going on was the Doctor.”

     The companion sighed. “The only time I saw a sky with no stars was at the end of all worlds. I really hope we haven't reached that yet.” Rose blinked in surprise, but almost managed to crack a smile, remembering her trying to one-up Sarah Jane's TARDIS trips.

     Molly glanced back at the door. “We need to move,” she said in a clipped tone. “The guard will wake up soon, and we're not going to learn anything else here. We can figure out our next move once we're out.” Rose had noticed earlier how easily Molly slipped into a soldier-like efficiency, and it was becoming clearer the longer she knew her. She was definitely an interesting person. Rose was curious to learn more about her.

     Now, however, wasn't the time. She returned the monitors to the original screen, then pushed the chair back in and headed to the door with Molly. There were footsteps approaching from the hallway; they must've realized the guard wasn't responding somehow. Molly got the door unlocked and they were out and quite a ways into the hallway before as three aliens rounded the corner.

     Before either human could react, the aliens had their guns raised and pointed straight at them. "Don't move," one ordered sharply. The other two came and pinned Molly and Rose's arms behind them.

     Rose tried to pull away, but the guard was too strong, and she could see Molly having the same trouble. The man who had spoken lowered his gun, looking at them with little interest. “Come on, we'll dump them with the other hostages.”

     Before Rose could make any kind of retort, Molly spoke up. “Don't you mean the other humans?” The aliens looked at her sharply, but Rose understood what Molly was doing. If they were going to be captured, might as well get right in the middle of it.

     “Yeah, that's what an alien would say, innit it?” Rose challenged with a raised eyebrow. “Aliens like Helmar, Fra, and Eren?”

     The alien growled, raising his gun again. “How do you know about that?”

     Rose felt a flicker of surprise. Maybe these aliens hadn't come to check on the security room after all; how else would they not know they'd been in there? Either way, this was an advantage they'd have to take advantage of very quickly, before they discovered the truth. “Ask Helmar,” she said boldly.

     He narrowed his eyes. “I'll let you do that.” Without a word, he turned and started walking away, the other aliens forcing Molly and Rose to follow him. The two women exchanged a glance. They were headed to the leader of these aliens, and they needed to figure out what they were going to do when they confronted her.

**SCENEBREAK**

     They really didn't have much of a chance to communicate on the way to Helmar, but Molly had the inklings of a plan starting to come to her. She waiting until they reached the main lobby, and the aliens took her towards the counter. The human hostages were all crouching to the ground, watching them with wary, terrified eyes as they walked past. Molly felt a pang of sympathy. _We'll get you out of here,_ she promised silently.

     The aliens took them behind the counter, where Helmar and two of her aliens were still standing. Now that she could see her closer, Molly noticed the long, straight black hair, the ice-blue eyes with an odd light to them. But for all that, she looked human. Was that a disguise, or was that just how her species looked? Neither was surprising anymore.

     In a clipped tone, she asked, “Who are these?” Helmar glared at the aliens escorting the humans, not even bothering to look at Molly and Rose themselves.

     “Humans that were wandering in the back,” one explained. “They know your name, they know what we are.” As he spoke, his grip on her relaxed, eventually releasing altogether. It wouldn't be smart to try and escape with this many guns in the room, but that wasn't her plan anyway. Instead Molly casually stuffed her hands in her pockets, subtly fumbling with her phone in her pocket until she was able to turn on a recording app.

     Rose faced Helmar with a cheerful grin, very reminiscent of the Doctor when he was facing an enemy. Molly was surprised how often Rose acted so similarly to the Time Lord. Had she taken on some of his mannerisms, or had he taken on hers? “Hello! Rose Tyler here, and Molly Hooper. Pleasure to meet ya.”

     Helmar finally looked at the humans, watching them with narrowed eyes. “Pleasure,” she returned dryly. “So, humans that know about aliens. That's a rarity. You're such a stupid little breed, you know that?”

     “We get that a lot,” Molly snarked.

     The alien's eyes were sharp with interest as she approached Molly, her gaze carefully measuring. “So how come you two are different? Why do you know about us?”

     “Nevermind that,” Molly said smoothly. “The real question is, what do you lot want with this bank's money? Why are you stealing it, Helmar?”

     Helmar smirked with amusement. “Why else? To get rich. Or at least, to keep my crew and my ship running smoothly for the next month.”

     Molly realized what she meant. “You're pirates.” She remembered Tammy and her crew. That had been an age of pirates, and they were actually some of the better ones, but Molly had a feeling these pirates weren't as ethical as Tammy's.

     Helmar gave a little mock bow. “At your service.” Her tone had taken on a mocking imitation of a pirate's accent that a movie would show. After a moment, though, her expression became grim again. “But now, we have to figure out what to do with you. Tell me something. Are two humans that could sell me out at a moment's notice really worth keeping alive?"

     Molly hadn't really planned the escape portion of this endeavor yet. Hopefully, they could talk their way out, somehow. “The whole reason we're here is because we know so much about you. Don't you want to know why that is? Maybe there's more of us out there. If you kill us, you won't know until it's too late.”

     Helmar considered it for a moment, then smirked. “Not interested.”

     Rose tried another tactic. “If you kill us, you'll attract far more attention than just some robbery. The police will come after you. It'll make it harder to leave the planet.”

     The alien gave a dry laugh. “In a few hours, that's not going to matter at all.”

     Molly felt a thrill of fear at the words. “Why?”

     “Because of what's coming.” Helmar's smirk had grown cruel now, almost relishing in taunting her. “In a few hours, nothing that's ever happened on this pathetic little rock will be worth anything.”

     “The darkness is coming.” Molly glanced at Rose. The blonde's expression was distant and serious. “I've seen it. It's coming for this world.”

     Helmar inclined her head to Rose. “Precisely. And we're not sticking around to get roasted with the rest of this planet.” She smirked again, nodding discreetly to her people. A few guns were raised in Rose and Molly's direction. “You know, I'm doing you a favor. You'll die now, and avoid the coming darkness.”

     Two men had raised their guns, and were pointing them at Molly and Rose. Helmar gave a final nod, the order to shoot. Molly was ready to make a run for it, knowing full well it wasn't going to do her any good, when Rose pulled out something from inside her jacket. She slung it around her neck and Molly's in an instant and pressed a large button on it.

     There was the sound of gunfire. Molly expected searing pain, but instead, there was the feeling of being ripped through the air, and suddenly they were somewhere else. It was the same bank, but it was different somehow. It was totally empty of anyone, no aliens, no humans, no guns.

     Molly looked around in shock. “...what just happened?” The change had been so sudden, it was hard to process.

     Rose, however, didn't seemed bothered at all. She pulled the device off of Molly and showed it to her. “This is a dimension hopper,” she told Molly. “It can take you from one parallel universe to another.” There was a cool edge to her tone.

     The companion blinked. “I thought travel between universes was impossible.” Molly still hadn't puzzled that one out. She glanced up at Rose. “Is that how you got to our world?” Rose nodded silently. As Molly looked around at the empty bank, a new realization hit her. “Wait. Is this your universe? Sorry, I mean, the universe you were stuck in?”

     “Yeah.” Rose walked a few paces away, jaw clenched. Molly hung back, waiting. Eventually, she spoke again. “I've been stuck here for two years. Two years of my life.” Deep frustration colored her tone. “It's not like it's a bad place to be. It's not. Mum's here, and Mickey, and Dad, and Tony. I've got a home, a family, a good life. But I never wanted any of that. I had a life that I loved for two years, and it all got ripped away because of that stupid lever.”

     Molly took a few steps towards her. “You're almost there,” she said encouragingly. “We just need to get through this alive, then you can have your life back.”

     Rose was quiet for a few moments. “I asked him a question the last time I saw him, on that beach. To be honest, I think I could've lived on the TARDIS the rest of my life without hearing the answer and been happy. Or not, I'm not sure. But I asked it and I answered it. I told him... well, what if he doesn't want to answer? And what if... I don't know. Now that it's almost here, I'm just scared.”

     The other woman kept silent. There was so much longing in Rose's tone. There was no doubt left in her mind that Rose loved the Doctor just as much as he loved her. Molly knew how much the Doctor missed and longed for the human woman, but apparently Rose didn't. And there was no way she could explain it. That would have to be the Doctor's task.

     But she could say something, at least. “Rose, I've been known that man for three years. There's nothing to be scared about. I don't know what your question was, or what his answer would have been. All I know is that he misses you. A lot.”

     Rose looked up hopefully. After a moment, she shook her head, her expression becoming focused again. “We need to figure out what to do next. How are we going to get those aliens out of the bank?”

     Molly pulled her phone out of her pocket, showing it to Rose. “I was recording the conversation,” she explained. “We can cut out the bits about aliens and such, but there was the bit where I got her to admit to robbing the bank.”

     The blonde woman raised an eyebrow. “And what good does that do us?”

     “We can give it to Scotland Yard.”

     Rose stared at her blankly. “Why would we want to involve them in this?”

     “You saw the security footage,” Molly reminded her. “Some of Helmar's pirates aren't thrilled about being here. They don't want to stay on the planet any longer than they have to. Sure, depending on what kind of alien she is and what kind of technology she has, Helmar probably wouldn't be in prison long. But it would be too long for this lot. If they think they're going to get caught if they stay with Helmar and help her rob the bank, they'll leave her. The only way she'll be able to keep her control over them is to leave with them.”

     Rose's eyes widened. “That's perfect! But how would we get this confession to them?”

     Molly grinned. “My boyfriend's a Detective Inspector,” she said. “He doesn't have his phone on him, but I have a friend who can contact the Yard. Greg can direct them from there. They'll have all the information they need to make a quick arrest.” She hesitated. “Except for one thing.”

     “What?”

     The companion explained, “After the confession, the best thing to get would be a picture of Helmar, so the Yard knows who they're looking for. It'll help convince Helmar that we really can get her stuck here.”

     Rose groaned. “And the only way to get a picture of her...”

     “...is to go back into the lobby,” Molly finished.

     She and Rose exchanged a quick glance. Then they both grinned. The excitement of adventure was catching. Rose stuffed the transporter back in her pocket. “We'll have to wait a half hour to use it again,” she explained. “Then we can go back.

     “Hopefully, when we get back, there'll be less guns,” Molly commented.

     There was a plan in place now. It was a dangerous plan, with a high chance of getting shot, but they had a way forward. After the bank, they still had to face the coming darkness. The stars were going out, and all of time and space was in jeopardy. But they had faced the end of the universe, they had faced the Year, and now they would face this, and they would beat it. And then Rose would be back, the Doctor would be overjoyed, and they could travel time and space together to their hearts' contents.

     Everything was going to work out fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there's only going to be one more chapter of this. Then, onto the finale. It's really starting to hit me that this fanfiction is almost over. I've been writing it for almost a year and a half now. It's taken up way more of my life than I thought it would.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented and followed this story, I really appreciate it. I hope you stick with it to the end.
> 
> Anyway, I shall try to post again soon, but I've got stuff to do, so we'll see.


	68. The North Wind Blows: Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Molly put their plan into action.

     While they waited, Rose asked to borrow Molly's phone. Molly sat on the counter, waiting as Rose made her call. “Hi mum,” Rose said into the phone. There was a pause. “Yes, yes, I'm fine. No, I'm not with the Doctor. But I did find his companion.” Another pause, then Rose rolled her eyes and groaned. “No, it's not like that mum. Listen, I think it's happening sooner than we thought. Tell Mickey that I'll need his help. We'll be fine, mum. Love you too.” She hung up, then passed the phone back to Molly.

     Molly took it, putting it back in her pocket. “So, your mum's here too?”

     Rose nodded. “She got trapped here with me and Mickey after Canary Wharf.”

     “Who's Mickey?” Molly felt like she had heard the name before, but she wasn't sure where.

     “My friend,” Rose said. “We traveled with me and the Doctor a bit.”

     Oh yeah, now she remembered. He had been Rose's boyfriend, and the Doctor said he had decided ot stay behind in the parallel world the first time they were there. She could still remember the faint jealousy in the Time Lord's eyes when he'd spoken about Rose's boyfriend. “Are they coming to our world too after this is all over.

     Rose stiffened. “I don't know.” A pause. “No, probably not. They've got a life here. Mum's back together with Dad, and I've got a little brother now, Tony.”

     Molly felt a rush of sympathy. “And you're going to leave them? If they're here, you'll never see them again.”

     The former companion sighed. “I know.” Her shoulders squared, and her expression hardened the same way Molly's would whenever she was steeling herself for something. “But it's a choice I made a long time ago.”

     Molly didn't respond. She couldn't imagine how hard that choice had to be. She didn't have any family left herself, but what would she give to see her Dad again? If he were still alive, and she had the choice, would she ever be able to swear off seeing him again to stay on the TARDIS? But she supposed it made sense. Rose had her own life to live, and if that life existed somewhere away from her family, she couldn't let that hold her back. No matter how hard it was.

     “We should be good to go back now,” Rose said in a clipped tone. “Is your phone ready?”

     Molly pulled up the camera app. “As ready as it's going to be,” she replied.

     “Then let's go.” Rose pulled out the transporter, draping it around her and Molly's necks. She pushed the button, and they were ripped through time and space again. In a moment's time, they were in her world again, standing a few feet away from the counter, where they had a good view of Helmar and her aliens.

     The hostage humans and gun-wielding aliens stared at the two women in shock. In that moment of surprise, before anyone had a chance to react, Molly lifted her phone and snapped a picture of Helmar.

     The moment of surprise ended, and everything went into motion again. Molly made a quick decision. She passed the phone to Rose, murmuring, “There's a Sherlock Holmes in my contacts, send this to him.” Then she took, and Rose did too, but in different directions. It was the best way to throw off the aliens. And, with any luck, they would think Molly still had the phone.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Rose grabbed the phone and took off, heading for the first door she saw. It took her to a back hallway, and judging by the pounding of footsteps behind her, she wasn't alone. She veered off the main hallway the first chance she got, and found a room to shut herself into.

     She leaned her back against the door and took out the phone, pulling up the contact list as quickly as she could. There weren't many names; it didn't take long to find a Sherlock Holmes. There was a pounding on the door as she started a message. “ _Sherlock I need your help_ ”

     With almost frightening speed, there was a reply. “ _Who is this? You're not Molly. Molly uses punctuation in her texts. - SH_ ” Rose had to lean against the door with everything she had to keep the aliens out.

     Rose was surpised by the text. Who would notice something like that so quickly. But she pushed on. “ _My name is Rose_ ”

     The reply came even more quickly this time. “ _Rose Tyler? - SH_ ”

     The woman felt a flash of surprise. _How come everyone knows my name?_ She kept texting. “ _Yes Molly and I are in trouble she said you could help_ ”

     “ _What do you need me to do? - SH_ ”

     Rose could feel the door giving way. There were too many of them, she couldn't keep them out forever. She made a quick choise. The woman yanked the door open, throwing the men off balance, and raced past them, jostling past the two aliens as she sprinted down the hallway. She could hear gunshots going off as her pursuants got their bearings back, but she was around the corner before any of their shots could hit her.

     She couldn't text while she ran, so she knew she had to find somewhere safe to hide. Footsteps pounded after her. After a few minutes, she managed to find a room with a door that locked. Rose slipped inside, slamming the door shut and locking it behind her. There was pounding on the door, but after a few minutes, it faded away. Rose sighed in relief. They must've thought she wasn't as important to find as Molly.

     Now that she was safe, Rose was able to text Sherlock again. She filled him in on the situation, and what she and Molly needed him to do. Sherlock promised to get it done, and said he'd text back when everything was ready. She'd done everything she could.

     The only thing she had left to do was tell Molly and get Helmar to agree to leave.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly didn't make it terribly far. She had too many aliens after her, and a couple of them were smart enough to split up and cut her off when she tried to escape. Even after she was cornered, she put up a hell of a fight. She swiftly knocked all guns out of range, and managed to break one alien's nose before they subdued her. The companion glared at them icly as one man pinned her arms behind her back.

     “Should we kill her?” the man with the broken nose asked viciously. Molly glared at him, daring him to try.

     Another alien hesitated, then shook his head. “Helmar will want to do it herself. Come on, bring her.” They started off, one of the aliens pushing Molly ahead of him. She threw an icy glare at the alien behind her, and didn't look away until he blinked and looked down.

     They took her back to the lobby, tossing her to the ground. She stumbled onto her knees and hands, but pulled herself up to her knees as an alien pulled her arms back behind her. He kept her on the ground, so she was forced to glare up at Helmar from the ground.

     “You're back.” The pirate's voice was cool, her ice-colored eyes emotionless, save for a hint of smugness. “Congratulations, you put off your death for a total of half an hour. I'm sure that's a great victory for you.”

     The other aliens laughed. Molly glared at the woman with all the hate she could possibly put in a single expresion. This alien, this pirate, was no more terrifying or threatening than any other alien she'd faced before. It was very likely she was about to die, she knew that. But having faced Daleks and the Master, she honestly couldn't muster up any proper terror or particular hatred. This pirate was nothing compared to them. But, if she was going out, she would stare down her executors to the very end. Then, just to add insult to injury, she grinned, cruel and cold. “Go to hell,” she sneered.

     Helmar smirked. “You first, kid.”

     She nodded to her men, giving the order to kill. Guns raised in Molly's direction. She kept her glare fixed on Helmar the whole time, but before any of them could shoot, a voice rang out from across the room. “Oi! Over here, mate.”

     The aliens turned to look at the source of the voice. As they did, Molly grabbed the nearest gun, swiftly disarming the alien and turning the gun to point at Helmar. Only then did she let her attention stray.

     Rose was at the end of the hall, phone in one hand, the other in her pocket. She wasn't armed, wasn't large or threatening in any way, but the grin she was flashing was enough to intimidate all the aliens in sight. There was something in the gleam in her eyes that reminded Molly of something she'd heard, a long time ago, as she'd drifted in and out of conciousness.

     “ _Your heart grows cold, the north wind blows, and carries down the distant Rose._ ” She could see the coldness in Rose's eyes, hear the fury of the howling wind in her casually light tone as she said, “Now now, put your guns down. Molly there is a friend of mine. If you killed her, I'd have to get really, really upset, and that wouldn't be good for anyone, would it?” In that moment, Molly saw the woman who had absorbed the time vortex, the Bad Wolf in human form.

     Even Helmar seemed intimidated by this woman with no weapon, but she covered it well. “And what would persuade me not to shoot your friend, exactly?”

     “How about the fact that I'd shoot you dead before you got the chance?” Molly said coldly. “I've handled a gun enough to bet that I'm a faster shot than any of your men.” She clicked off the safety, reminding Helmar of the imminent danger pointed directly at her face.

     That didn't seem to impress her. “And I've been around less reputable types long enough to tell a killer from someone who just doesn't have it in them. You don't have the eyes for it, kid.”

     “She doesn't have to,” Rose said. She held up the phone for Helmar to see. On the screen was Helmar's picture, nice and clear. “You see, Molly took this a few minutes ago. She also recorded you admitting to robbing this bank. In about five minutes, that information is going to be sent to Scotland yard. Right now, there are cops surrounding this building. The people we let out before called them, and they don't know who the shooters are and who the hostages are. If you leave now, you can pretend to be hostages and get away scott free. But if not, they'll know exactly who you are, and you'll be caught. Are you really going to be able to rob the place blind and get out in all that time?”

     Helmar looked shaken for a moment, then shook her head. “You really think I wouldn't know how to escape a human prison?” She tried to sound condescending, but something in her voice shook.

     “Oh, I'm sure you would,” Rose said dismissively. “But not in time to avoid what's coming. And you really, really don't want to be stuck here when that comes around, do you?” Her gaze slid past the captain as she added, “I'm sure your crew doesn't.”

     Indeed, many of Helmar's pirates were looking uncertain, glancing at their captain as though wondering whether she was really going to order them to stay. Helmar seemed to realize she was losing control of them. She whirled around to glare at them, snapping, “If we stay just a little longer, we'll be set for life!”

     “Not if we get caught,” one woman called out. She glared at Helmar defiantly, putting her gun back in its holster. “Face it Helmar, if you get caught, we're leaving without you.” There were murmurs of agreement from over half of her crew. Helmar's eyes darted around, looking for some hint of reassurance from her crew, but no one spoke up. The alien's posture deflated a bit, and in that moment, Molly knew they had won.

     Helmar glared at her with venom in her gaze. “Fine,” she spat. “We'll leave. But we're the real winners here. We're leaving you all to die.” With that, she put her gun away, jerking her head to her aliens. They all lowered their guns, and slowly headed for the exit, muttering and growling in frustration. Molly felt herself relax, lowering her own gun and glancing back at Rose. The plan had worked, and the aliens were gone.

     Now all that was left to face was the end of the universe.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The aliens got away pretty quickly, but it took a few hours for Rose and Molly to sort out the ensuing mess with the cops. Greg was there, thankfully, and he was able to drum up some explanation to tide over his colleagues. Rose made sure to talk to the hostages and make sure they wouldn't tell anyone, which they all swore not to do, probably in the hopes that they'd imagined it all. Molly suspected some of them would try to get the truth out there, but more likely than not, the story would only end up in tabloid magazines.

     Once the police were all cleared away and the hostages headed back home, Molly finally explained to Greg who Rose was. He was as shocked as Molly had been, but he took it all in stride. He offered them a ride back to Baker Street, which they accepted. By that point, it was almost time to meet the Doctor again. Molly was starting to get excited now. The Doctor had been missing Rose for so long, she couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he saw her again. He deserved to be happy again, and Molly thought she had finally found an answer to that.

     Rose seemed on edge too. She kept glancing out the window, as if thinking she'd see the familiar blue box outside at any moment. When they reached Baker Street, Sherlock, John, the newly dubbed Mr. Hudson, Mrs. Hudson, and Donna were all outside. Donna rushed over as soon as Molly was out of the car, pulling her into a tight hug. “Blimey, you always have to get yourself in trouble, don't you?” the redhead said. Sherlock must've told her what happened.

     Molly grinned, hugging her friend back. “It's in the contract somewhere. You start living on the TARDIS, you have to be inexplicably drawn to danger.” She pulled back, grinning. Rose hung back, as did Greg.

     Donna shook her head. “We really should've read the fine print. Glad you got out okay.”

     “Don't I always?”

     Wilf approached her next. “I'm glad you're okay. When we heard about the bank, we were all so worried.”

     “Even Sherlock was worried, no matter what he says,” Mrs. Hudson added.

     Molly smiled. Those two really were so sweet. “Thanks, Mr. Hudson,” she said. Wilf beamed at the use of his new name. Even as she accepted everyone's greetings, Molly knew she'd have to explain Rose's presence eventually, but she wasn't quite sure how to start that conversation.

     Sherlock interrupted her thoughts by walking over and inclining his head to her. “Good thinking, with the phone.” From Sherlock, that was positively gushing.

     Molly rolled her eyes. “Oh, come here.” She pulled the unsuspecting detective into a hug. “I know you were worried.”

     To his credit, Sherlock didn't stiffen up like he usually did when people hugged him. “The thought never crossed my mind.” When Molly pulled back, his gaze darted over to the car. He was the first to notice the blonde girl. “Rose Tyler,” he greeted with a small nod. Molly could tell there was a thousand questions buzzing away in his mind, but he managed to reign them in for the time being.

     Everyone else looked up at the girl indicated. She took a few steps towards them, giving a little wave. “Hello,” she said, forcing a cheerful smile. Molly could tell she was a bit nervous, and she didn't blame her. This was obviously a very close-knit group.

     John looked a bit confused. “Hello. Um, sorry, who are you?” Wilf and Mrs. Hudson looked equally confused.

     Donna, however, knew better. “Oh my god. Rose Tyler. You're Rose Tyler? The Rose?”

     Rose bounced on her heels, looking a bit uncomfortable. “That's the rumor, yeah.”

     The redhead looked overwhelmed with glee. “Oh my _god_. You're Rose Tyler. Oh my god, the Doctor, he's never going to believe this! Does he know yet?”

     Molly shook her head. “I figured this was something he should learn in person.” The words had barely escaped her mouth when the familiar _vworpp, vworrp_ rang out behind them. Molly grinned. “Which he's going to do right about now.”

     All of the companions turned to look at the materializing TARDIS. Rose seemed frozen in place, staring at the box with a completely raw expression, hope and longing and love and desire blazing in her eyes. It seemed to take an eternity for the box to fully form and settle on the grass.

     With a loud _creak_ , the door swung open, and the Doctor stepped out. “Sorry if I'm late, I got a bit caught up with the...” He trailed off, expression completely gobsmacked. He was looking at Rose with utter shock, every line in his face taut with surprise and hope and disbelief. In a hoarse croak, he managed to utter one desperate, longing syllable.

     “Rose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of the last original episode, folks. Next up, The Stolen Earth, and after that, the episode to end it all. And no, I'm not going to pull the same trick I did with TWWC where I acted like it was the end when I really had a sequel all planned out. Like I'd get away with that twice. I might write a spin-off series at some point, but for now, I'm moving on to another project. So this really will be the end.
> 
> As for the finale itself, you can expect a lot of craziness. And lots of companions. So, _so_ many companions. I'm going to try and deviate from the story, and make it as interesting as I can. And you can bet I'm going to have some proper fun bouncing all these characters off each other. And we might seem some familiar faces, and learn some new surprises along the way...
> 
> So, I'll try to post again soon, but with my schedule, who knows?


	69. The Stolen Earth: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are reunions, stolen planets, and revelations.

     Rose hung back from the rest of the group. She'd known that Molly traveled with a larger group than just her and the Doctor, but she hadn't expected so many people to understand the nature of the danger she'd been in. There was a new TARDIS family now, and maybe Rose wouldn't be welcome there.

     The first one to see her was a tall, skinny man with a scarf and a long coat. From the sharp, measuring gaze, she assumed this man was the Sherlock she'd been texting. “Rose Tyler,” he greeted coolly. She could tell the man had a thousand questions he wanted to ask her, but he tactfully kept them to himself.

     That led to a red-headed woman, presumably the Donna Molly had mentioned, realizing who she was. The older couple looked confused, and so did the other man, but Donna looked estatic to see her. Rose was a bit embarrassed by the attention, but it was nice to see they were glad to see her there.

     Any thought at all flew out of Rose's head when she heard the familiar _vworrp, vworpp_ of the box that had been her home for two years. Everything seemed to freeze in time. As the blue box materialized, the only thought that Rose could process was, _He's here._

     It seemed to take an eternity for the box to land. Rose's throat closed up in fear and joy as the door opened, and he stepped out. She'd imagined his face so many times since the last time she'd seen him, and now there it was, real and alive and _here_. The hair was even more mussed and crazy than she remembered it, his expression maybe not quite as lively, but the coat was there, the pinstripes, and the face she had fallen in love with all over again.

     “Sorry if I'm late, I got a bit caught up with the...” The Doctor trailed off, his expression completely gob-smacked. For as long as she had known him, Rose had never seen him look so desperate and shocked and longing all at once. She knew she wore the same expression, she could feel all those emotions boiling inside her, filling her up until she was ready to burst. All the two people could do for what felt like ages was stare at each other.

     Finally, the Doctor uttered one hoarse syllable, the word Rose had wished to hear him say for over two years. "Rose." There was so much pain in that one word.

     Rose tried to respond, but found that her throat had closed up and any words she could use had all flown from her mind. The only thing she could manage was, "Doctor."

     Everyone else had fallen dead silent. Even the ones who didn't know about Rose could sense the history between these two people, and kept completely silent, just watching to see what would happen. Rose barely even remembered they were there. All she could see was the Doctor.

     "But it can't be," he breathed. He was staring at Rose as though she were a phantom. "You're gone. It can't be." He reached out a hand, then pulled it back, as though afraid that if he touched her she'd turn to mist.

     Rose finally gained control of her thoughts again. She laughed, muffled tears in the sound. "It's really me. I'm here." She was crying, and laughing, and she didn't care. "I came back."

     "How?" The Doctor didn't seem to be able to move. All he could do was stare at her.

     Rose shook her head with a smile. "It doesn't matter. I made a promise. You thought a parallel universe would stop me from keeping it?" She was starting to get worried. The Doctor wasn't smiling, he didn't look happy, and he wasn't walking towards her. Her smile faltered. "Doctor?"

     Hearing his name seemed to jolt the Time Lord awake. He took a few steps towards her, reaching out a hand. With trembling fingers, he brushed against her shoulder. Once he seemed convinced she was solid, his hand grasped her shoulder, trembling in joy and relief. "Rose. You're really here." He pulled her into a desperate, crushing hug. The gesture felt so heart-achingly familiar. Rose could feel more tears springing to her eyes as she hugged him back with everything she had.

     "Of course I am," she teased, grinning with abandon into his shoulder.

     She could hear the grin in his own voice. "I thought I'd lost you."

     "Nah, not me." The feeling of him in her arms, safe and alive, made her feel like all the baggage and strife of the last two years had just melted away. "I told you you're stuck with me."

     The Doctor pulled back. He was beaming, joy shining in his eyes as he looked at her. He fingers reached up and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. Something in her chest fluttered as she wondered whether the Doctor was going to kiss her.

     Before he could, or couldn't, the ground under their feet began to shudder and shake, nearly throwing them off balance. Rose's first instinct was to pull the Doctor closer to her and keep him safe, and he did the same, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Rose could see the others huddling together, trying to keep their balance. This wasn't an earthquake. It felt like it, but arose knew it wasn't. She was the only one watching the sky as it happened, knowing exactly what she was going to see.

     "The darkness is coming," she whispered as the sky began to change. "And now it's here."

**CARDIFF**

     Captain Jack Harkness felt the ground shaking as he was thrown to the ground. He could hear things crashing around the Hub, but his first thoughts were for his team. The captain struggled to his feet as the shaking faded, leaning on a nearby shelf to get his footing back. “Whoa! What happened? Was it the Rift?” He made his way out of his office into the main room of the Hub. “Gwen, Ianto, you OK?”

     His teammates were on the ground, groaning, but unharmed. Papers were scattered everywhere, furniture tossed about, and chains were rattling. The Hub looked like a tornado had hit it. “No broken bones,” Ianto assured him. “Slight loss of dignity. No change there then.”

     “The whole city must've felt that,” Gwen gasped. “The whole of South Wales!”

     Satisfied that his charges were okay, Jack rushed past them, heading for the door. “Come, I'll look outside.” The door slid open, and Jack rushed out, heading back out into Cardiff. The moment he saw the sky, he froze in shock, letting out a low, “No way...”

**EALING, LONDON**

     Sarah Jane Smith had been knocked to the ground, as had most of her books and papers. She had no idea what had caused all the shaking, but she knew her luck wasn't good enough for it just to be an earthquake.

     She scrambled to her feet, racing for the hallway. "Luke, are you all right?" Her son was there, thank god, and he seemed alright.

     "Felt like some sort of cross-dimensional spatial transference," he commented as she checked him over to make sure he was unharmed.

     Once she was satisfied, she turned to the window, realizing with a shock how dark it was. "But it's night! It wasn't night, it was the afternoon..." She decided to call on some advanced help. "Mr Smith! I need you!"

     Her chimney began to pull apart with a grand sweep of music, revealing her supercomputer. Sarah Jane waited for the music to stop with impatience. "I wish you would just stop with all that fanfare and tell me what happened!" she snapped, still a bit shaken.

     " _Sarah Jane, I think you should look outside,_ " Mr. Smith replied. " _I think you'll find the visual evidence most conclusive._ " Sarah Jane and her son exchanged a glance, then rushed to the door.

**SOMEWHERE IN LONDON**

     It was chaotic on the street. People were fleeing, the wind howling, things blowing about. In the middle of all the chaos stood a man. Unlike the people all around him, he seemed completely unfazed by the chaos. Perhaps four years ago, he would've been moved to terror. Not now.

     "Well, looks like she was right," he commented lightly, glancing up at the sky. In his arms rested an enormous gun. He cocked it, grinning despite the obvious danger. "Let's get started."

**BAKER STREET, LONDON**

     Once the shaking stopped, the small group got to their feet, groaning and muttering. The Doctor and Rose alone had kept their footing, and that was only because of Rose's quick thinking. They rose to standing, the Doctor's arm still around Rose's shoulder and hers still around his waist. Neither seemed in a hurry to move.

     The Doctor still couldn't believe she was back. When Pete had come back and taken her to his universe, he thought he had lost her forever. Part of him thought that the goodbye at Bad Wolf Bay had just made things worse, especially when he'd been cut off at the end. He had tried to move on. Donna had given him the push he needed, and Molly had helped him so much to heal by being his friend. But in his hearts, he had ached to see Rose again, more than he would ever admit to himself. And now she was here, grinning and alive and just as amazing as he remembered. The feeling of her arm around him was the only thing keeping him convinced that she was really, truly here. The happiness was dizzying.

     Now, however, there was a distraction in the form of the sudden darkness. It had been late noon a before the shaking started. But now, it was dark as night outside.

     He wasn't the only one who had noticed. John let out a groan as he got to his feet. “Blimey, what was all that? And why's it all dark?”

     Sherlock was the first to get back to his feet. His gaze was drawn straight to the sky. “I think that should provide an obvious response.” One by one, everyone's gaze followed his gaze to the sky.

     Molly let out a low whistle. “Hoo boy.” Lestrade took a few steps towards her, putting his arm around her shoulder. She leaned against him, still looking at the sky.

     It wasn't the night sky any of them were used to. There were stars, but there were also planets, large and small, scattered across the sky. It was a beautiful sight – and terrifying in how wrong it was. The travelers all stared in awe of the sight, shocked into silence.

     The Doctor's brow furrowed in confusion. “But that's impossible. We've _moved._ The Earth's moved across space, that's impossible!”

     Donna laughed quietly. “Seems like there's plenty of that going around today.”

     “It's them aliens,” Wilf said, voice shaky with both fear and excitement. “It has to be.”

     “Oh dear,” Mrs. Hudson breathed. She and Wilf stood together, grasping each others' hands as they stared up at the sky.

     Rose alone didn't seem surprised. She just let out a sigh. “Well, it's started.”

     The Doctor glanced at her. “What do you mean?”

     “It's part of why I came here,” Rose explained. “In my universe, the stars were going out. And not just mine, all the universes. A darkness was sweeping across and wiping them out. I knew I had to come here to find out what was happening. And now it's here.”

     “Right,” the Doctor said, looking back up at the sky. As he did, his gaze was drawn to the TARDIS. Or rather, where the TARDIS had been standing. His eyes widened. “It's gone!” He dashed over to the empty patch of grass, staring in shock. Rose followed behind, as did Molly and Donna. “The TARDIS was right here.”

     “How is it gone?” Molly asked with concern.

     The Doctor groaned. “Of course. The Earth moved, and the TARDIS stayed fixed. It was locked onto the Earth's rotation and orbital movement, it wasn't set to compensate for sudden movement across the galaxy. We've left it behind.”

     Donna let out a low whistle. “Great. So the Earth's been stashed to some corner of the universe, and we've got no TARDIS, no way to transport anywhere or find out where we are or how this happened?” The Doctor just gave a helpless shrug in response.

     “You're wrong.” Everyone turned to look at Sherlock. “We do have transportation.” He nodded to Rose. “She has a transporter that can take us wherever we need to go. And I have a destination where we might be able to get some answers.” The detective turned to Rose. “How does it work? Can it carry all of us?”

     Rose pulled out her transporter, showing it to everyone. “It's a sort of point and click. Just think about where you want to be. And it should be able to carry all of us, yeah.”

     “Good.” Without preamble, he took the transporter. John approached the group, and Donna, Lestrade, Molly, Rose, and the Doctor let Sherlock drape the transporter over their wrists. Mr. and Mrs. Hudson approached as well, but Sherlock shook his head. “Stay here and keep an eye on the phones. We might need information from the flat.”

     Wilf hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. You be careful, now. All of you.” His gaze swept over all of them, showing equal concern for all. The Doctor felt a rush of warmth for the man.

     “We will,” he assured Wilf. That decided, Sherlock activated the transporter, sending them howling through time and space.

**SCENEBREAK**

     In a moment's time, the street was gone, and they were in some kind of building. Molly didn't recognize the interior at all, the tall, circular room, the core at the center of it, or the two people standing by a monitor, currently staring at them in shock. “Who are you?” one of them asked, a woman with a thick Welsh accent.

     She did, however, recognize the man coming back in through a door. He stared at them in shock, and they stared back at him. “Doctor? Molly?”

     Molly grinned. “Jack!” She raced to the immortal man, nearly tackling him with a hug. He stumbled a bit in surprise, then returned the hug with zeal. Molly was grinning as she asked, “How've you been?”

     “Oh, same as ever, seeing a lot of things, doing a lot of people,” he joked.

     Molly rolled her eyes and pulled back from the hug. “Careful, Jack,” she teased. “You might make my boyfriend jealous.” She was joking, of course. Greg knew Jack as well as Molly did, and she was far more likely to tell someone to back off than Greg was.

     “Boyfriend?” His gaze darted over to Greg, and he grinned. “Congratulations. Of course, the more the merrier.” For all his flirting, Molly could tell he really was happy for the couple.

     The Doctor rolled his eyes. “Oh, stop it,” he said warningly.

     Jack's grin turned suave as he looked at the Doctor. “Jealous, Doc?” His expression faltered as he caught sight of Rose. His eyes widened. “Rose? Is that Rose?” For once, the confident, outgoing Jack Harkness seemed totally shocked.

     To Molly's surprise, Rose seemed equally shocked. "You're alive?" Molly looked at the Doctor questioningly, but he evaded her gaze. Once Rose got over the surprise, though, it was her turn to hug the Captain. "Oh god, I thought you were dead!" Molly smiled. It was good to see Rose reuniting with the people she'd left behind.

     Hopefully, they'd all get out of this okay.

**SCENEBREAK**

     As they caught up, Donna turned to Sherlock. “So, why exactly are we here? What is this place?”

     John spoke first. “What, you thought we were just sitting around solving crimes like nothing had happened?” he joked.

     “This is Torchwood,” Sherlock explained, “our new place of employment.”

     Donna wasn't sure what that meant, but Molly blinked in shock. “You're working for Torchwood now?”

     “After I returned to London, the ordinary crimes of the human race didn't interest me quite as much,” Sherlock explained. “I decided to try my hand at problems of a more extraterrestrial nature. Jack Harkness was all too happy to hire us.”

     “What, like I'd pass up the chance to have those dazzling cheekbones show up here every day?” Jack teased. He'd made his way back over from Rose, and was grinning charmingly at the detective.

     Sherlock just rolled his eyes. The man standing by the monitor glanced in their direction, warning, “Careful Jack, I might have to become jealous.”

     Jack grinned. “That might look good on you,” he teased. He made his way over to the man and the woman, clasping a hand on the man's shoulder. “Everyone, this is my team, the lovely Gwen Cooper and the incredible Ianto Jones.”

     “Now you're just desperate,” Ianto said dryly, but Donna could hear the warmth in his tone. Judging by the way Jack was looking at him, the two were a couple. A shame he was taken. Jack was definitely a bit more than pretty.

     As for Sherlock and John, she supposed it made sense. This explained the odd behavior during the Agatha Christie trip. She remembered her odd conversation with Sherlock, how he'd talked about wondering if he'd made the right choice. It all made sense now. He'd been questioning his decision to join Torchwood.

     “I hate to interrupt this little reunion,” the woman, Gwen, said. “But I think we have a bit more to worry about at the moment.”

     Jack nodded. “Right, sorry. Let's try to figure out what's going on here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I realized that Rose would have thought Jack was dead, and edited the story to reflect that.
> 
> IANTO!!!!!! *fangirling and squeeing*
> 
> *ahem* Sorry, Ianto is my favorite Torchwood character.
> 
> Anyway, I finally got to reveal what John and Sherlock have been up to since their return. I've been waiting to drop this bomb for a while. I may or may not write a spin-off at one point about Sherlock and John working at Torchwood, but if I do, it won't be for a while. Another possibility I'm considering is writing about the Year, but since I described that in such detail already, that one's less likely.
> 
> So yeah, this time around, they're stuck on Earth without the TARDIS. We shall see how much this will change events.


	70. The Stolen Earth: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their enemy is revealed.

     “ _The United Nations has issued an edict, asking the citizens of the world not to panic. So far, there has been no explanation of the 26 planets which have appeared in the sky..._ ”

     “So wait, if we've moved across the universe,” Donna said, “how are we still breathing? I mean, if there's no sun, how are we still alive?”

     John gave a helpless shrug. He was seated at one of the computers, checking through some files to see if there was any information about a case like this before. “No idea, sorry.”

     “It must be some sort of atmospheric shell,” Sherlock mused. “Whoever moved us must want us alive.”

     “ _...but it's an empirical fact! The planets didn't come to us, we came to them! Just look at the stars. We're in a completely different region of space, we've traveled._ ” Ianto was flipping through channels on his monitor, seeing what the news had to say about the Earth's sudden trip across the galaxy.

     Molly sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “If it's an atmospheric shell, it must be temporary,” she groaned. “Just like on the moon. We only have so much time to figure this out.”

     “Not necessarily,” the Doctor commented. “If the technology's advanced enough, the shell might be able to compensate for the heat. Besides, there's planets and trees to help with producing more air, which wasn't the case on the moon.”

     “Given the fact that they were able to toss the Earth across the galaxy, I think there's a good chance the technology's advanced enough,” Lestrade commented. Rose kept quiet. She didn't know the full nature of the darkness, but she knew it was worse than just moving the Earth. This wasn't the end of it.

     “ _D'you know what, I look up, and there's all these moons and things! Have you seen them? Did you see them?_ ” There was a burst of cheering and laughter from the speakers. “ _I thought, what was I drinking last night? Furniture polish?_ ”

     Ianto laughed at the screen, earning a disapproving look from Jack. “Ianto. Time and a place,” he reminded him.

     Ianto shrugged, turning off the screen. “He is funny, though.” Rose didn't know much about Ianto yet, but she did know she hadn't seen Jack look at anyone quite the way he looked at Ianto; sweet affection rather than suave charm. She could tell he really did love Ianto, and that Ianto was good for him. Though she was still trying to get over the surprise of Jack miraculously being alive, she had her thoughts together enough to be happy for her old friend.

     Another thing that had changed about Jack was the new air of authority he gave off. “Gwen, come and see!” He waved the travelers over as well. Gwen was up on the railing above, making her way down. She was on the phone with somebody, warning them to stay indoors. As she hung up the phone and made her way down, all the travelers crowded around Jack's monitor.

     “Ten points to Sherlock. Someone did establish an artificial atmospheric shell. Keeping the air and holding in the heat.” Jack's tone was clipped and to the point.

     The Doctor's brow furrowed at the sight. “27 planets, stolen from the sky. But why?”

     Ianto glanced at him. “You recognize them?”

     “A few. Shallacatop, Jahoo, Callufrax Minorr, Pyrovillia...”

     “Women's Wept,” Rose added quietly. She recognized the planet she and the Doctor had once visited, entirely covered in ice. It was one of her favorite memories.

     The Doctor's expression became even more puzzled. “And there's Clom! They took Clom? Who'd want Clom?”

     Donna spoke up. “So, what you're saying is, all these planets are ones that've been stolen from their place in the universe?”

     “Yeah, why?”

     “Is the Adipose Breeding Planet there?” Everyone turned to look at Donna. She looked a bit uncomfortable, but pressed on. “I mean, didn't that Mrs. Foster say that her planet had been lost? But that must've been a while ago, couldn't be here, could it?”

     The Doctor's face suddenly lit up, and his tone was wild with a new idea. “That's it! Donna, you're brilliant! Planets aren't just being stolen from time, they're stolen from space! Which means, they're very specific planets, needed for something...” He typed something into the machine, removing a few of the planets from the 3D imager. They fell apart, moving in disorganized orbits. As he added the planets back in, they suddenly fell back into place, moving in perfect harmony with each other. “There!”

     Sherlock stared intently at the monitor. “They're in perfect balance. Their orbits harmonized.”

     “The optimum position,” the Doctor agreed.

     “Oi, don't you two get started with all the spaceman talk, what does it mean?” Donna demanded. Sherlock glanced back at her in amusement, but the Doctor was totally focused on the screen.

     “All those worlds fit together like pieces of an engine,” he explained. “It's like a powerhouse! What for?”

     As they all looked at the screen, one of the planets pulled back to reveal a blipping red dot in the middle of the screen. “No, but what's that?” Gwen asked, pointing to it. “That's not a planet...”

**EALING, LONDON**

     Mr. Smith had pulled up a model of the 27 planets for Sarah Jane to see. The blinking red dot was in perfect view. “ _The reading seems to be artificial in construction._ ” he informed her.

     Sarah Jane's eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out what it was. “Some sort of space station. Sitting at the heart of the web.”

     Luke walked in from the other room, having just gotten of the phone. Some of the concern had eased from his face. “They're fine,” he told her, coming to look at the screen with her. “Maria and her dad, they're still in Cornwall. I told them to stay indoors. And Clyde's all right, he's with his mum.” Sarah Jane put a gentle hand on his arm to assure him, then glanced back at the screen.

     “ _Sarah Jane, I have detected movement,_ ” Mr. Smith warned her. “ _Observe._ ” Now instead of one blinking red light, there were many red shapes, blinking in and out of sight and moving steadily towards the Earth.

     Luke's eyes widened in awe. “Spaceships,” he breathed, eyes bright with excitement. Sarah Jane wasn't as thrilled. She gave her son a tight smile in response, but inwardly, she worried about the ships. This must be whoever had moved the Earth, and as much as she wished otherwise, she knew they couldn't have done it for a good reason.

**BAKER STREET, LONDON**

     “ _We're now getting confirmed reports of spaceships. The Pentagon has issued an emergency report..._ ”

     Wilf sighed. He had finished locking up the building and their flat, and now all he could do was sit uselessly in front of the telly and wait to hear from Donna again. The scant information the news could offer wasn't very comforting either.

     Martha Hudson came in from the other room, a tray with two cups of tea in her hands. Without a word, she handed one to her husband and took the other, coming to sit in the chair beside him.

     “I phoned Sylvia,” he told her. “Told her to stay indoors. She sounded alright though.”

     Martha smiled. “That's good, dear. I made sure Mrs. Turner knew to stay inside. It's all we can do for now.”

     The couple fell silent, their attention fixed on the telly. The reported had mentioned something about spaceships, and was showing shapes moving towards the planet. “ _...and now heading towards Earth in a regular pattern..._ ”

     Without thinking, Wilf's hand reached for Martha's. She took it, giving a comforting squeeze. _Where are you, Donna?_ Wilf fretted. _Please come back safe._

**SOMEWHERE IN LONDON**

     The man was now accompanied by an older woman. They had made their way through the street even as people ran past them, totally panicked. Neither seemed particularly bothered by the ongoing events.

     Eventually, they found an electronics store in the process of being robbed. The man cleared his throat, gaining their attention. “Oi, punks, get lost.” He cocked his gun to prove his point. The thieves ran for it, leaving the man and the woman alone in the electronics store.

     The man sat down at one of the computers, typing a bit before pulling up a model of the planets and the red shapes. His eyebrows raised a bit. “Oh, this is interesting.”

**CARDIFF**

     “3,000 miles and closing,” Gwen noted. The ships, if that's what they were, were getting closer to Earth by the minute. “But who are they?”

     The Doctor's expression became distant. “Someone tried to move the Earth once before. Long time ago... can't be...”

     Rose glanced at him with concern. There was a note of fear in his voice when he said that. “Doctor?” The Time Lord just shook his head in response.

     “Whoever they are, I doubt it's a friendly visit,” Greg commented. He turned to the Doctor. “You said these planets, they're some kind of powerhouse, right? But for what?”

     The Doctor shrugged. “It looks like it's supposed to focus some kind of energy. But what you'd need to use on that kind of scale...”

     “1,500 miles, boys, and accelerating,” Gwen warned. “They're almost here.” Everyone fell silent. Whoever “they” were, it wouldn't be long til they showed their faces.

**EALING, LONDON**

     “ _I'm receiving a communication from the Earthbound ships,_ ” Mr. Smith announced. “ _They have a message for the human race._ ”

     Sarah Jane felt a thrill of apprehension, but forced herself to say. “Put it through, let's hear it.”

     Moments later, she wished she'd never thought to ask.

     The phrase and tone brought back memories of travels past, of brushes with death and an enemy so terrifying that even the Doctor feared and hated them beyond measure. The sound of its metal voice sent her into immediate terror.

     “ _EXTER-MI-NATE!_ ”

**SOMEWHERE IN LONDON**

     The man stiffened as the familiar cry rang out from the speakers. “ _EXTER-MI-NATE! EXTER-MI-NATE!_ ” Beside him, the woman's eyes went wide in fear, and she let out a little gasp.

     “Blimey,” he breathed. “Now we're in real trouble.”

**BAKER STREET, LONDON**

     When the cries of “ _EXTER-MI-NATE!_ ” rang from the telly, Wilf didn't know what they meant. He had no history with those hateful creatures, didn't know how easily and how carelessly he killed. But the word and the screeching tone alone sent chills up his spine.

     Martha's grip on his hand tightened, and Wilf could feel his own hands trembling in fear.

**EALING, LONDON**

     Sarah Jane was utterly stricken with terror. They were back. And now she had Luke, and so much more to lose.

     She clutched at her son, hugging him to her with desperation, despite his confusion. “Oh god, you're so young,” she sobbed.

**CARDIFF**

     Everyone in the room froze when the all-too-familiar voice screeched from the monitor. “ _EXTER-MI-NATE! EXTER-MI-NATE!_ ”

     The Doctor felt his heart fill with the blackest hate. Only one species in all the universe could fill him with that purest of loathing. He had lost everything because of them. He'd thought they were gone. And now they dared to come back, dared to threaten everything he loved once again. Unconciously, he reached out and put an arm around Rose, pulling her closer. He'd lost her once because of these creatures. Never again. He'd die before he let them.

     Molly felt her chest tighten up with fear. The only time she had faced these creatures, one of the people in her charge had died. She had watched them murder an entire species without a hint of remorse. The thought of what they could do to the planet of her birth filled her with terror. But she also felt an odd sense of calm. She had faced them once before without showing any fear. Back then, she had just been scared little Molly Hooper. Now, she was the Woman Who Walked The Earth, leader of the Hooper Army, and a far more hardened and confident woman. Let the Daleks try to scare her, if they would. It wouldn't work.

     When Jack heard the message, his thoughts were flung back to his first death, the one he'd thought would stick. He'd led an army of aliens, scared but determined, to battle that day. All of them had been lost, himself included. He knew what these creatures could do, and how easily they cut down those in their path. He reached out and pulled Ianto and Gwen closer to him, kissing the tops of their heads. Wonderful Gwen, and his beautiful Ianto. “There's nothing I can do. I'm sorry. We're dead.”

     Greg didn't recognize the voice. He knew Sherlock didn't know them, and judging by their expressions, neither did John, Donna, Gwen, or Ianto. But he knew that word. He had heard it before, in the tales that Molly had told them when they were the Hooper army sitting around campfires trying to pass the time. He knew what creature they belonged to as well, and the damage they could do. He reached out for Molly's hand, which she took, giving it a comforting squeeze.

     Rose Tyler just stared at the screen, feeling every bit of hate she could muster up, her eyes rimmed with tears. These monsters had taken everything from her. They'd ripped her away from the life she loved and the man she adored, forcing her into two years of exile. Once, she'd taken pity on one. But not anymore. They deserved every bit of loathing she could throw at them. Rose reached for the Doctor at the same time he reached for her, wrapping her arm around his waist. She'd lost him and the TARDIS for two years because of them. She'd only just gotten him back, and she was _not_ going to lose him again.

     For several moments, everyone just stared at the screen in silence, listening to the hateful sound. Finally, Molly spoke up, saying the word all of them were thinking and what all of them were dreading to hear. “Daleks.”

**SOMEWHERE IN LONDON**

     The man and the women stepped back out into the street. In the sky above, a spaceship was moving slowly overhead, shooting at random. People were fleeing in terror, as well they should. The two people looked up at the ship with varying degrees of hate and fear, then moved on. They had work to do.

**CARDIFF**

     “How the hell are they here?!”

     That was Jack. He was flushed with anger, pacing through the hub with tense fury in each step. “I thought you said there was only one left, that Dalek Caan. So how the hell are they still alive?!”

     The Doctor looked equally furious, but his anger was calm and ice cold. Molly had to suppress a shudder at the sight. She rarely saw him so angry. “I don't know,” he admitted.

     “Well, however it happened, they're obviously here,” Sherlock snapped. He didn't have a history with the Daleks, so he wasn't as worked-up as the others. “Accept it and move on. How can we deal with them now that they're here?”

     Molly shook her head. “You can't deal with Daleks,” she told him grimly. “You can't negotiate or beg or plead. They murdered their own leader because he had become too impure. They've got nothing but hate.”

     “Not to mention they're almost impossible to destroy,” Rose added. Molly could hear the rage and hate in her tone as well, but she was staying focused on the task at hand. “They're bulletproof, fireproof, proofed for basically anything you can throw at them. The only weak point is the eyestalk.”

     “And they won't stop,” the Doctor concluded. “Not until every human on this planet is dead. That's what the Daleks are. They kill anything that isn't Dalek. That's what they're made of.” With a sudden burst of energy, he dashed towards Jack, reaching for his arm.

     Jack pulled back in surprise. “What are you doing?”

     “Going up to those damn ships and finding out what the hell they want,” the Doctor growled. His gaze darted to Jack's vortex manipulator.

     As much as she wanted to get tot the bottom of this as well, Molly knew that was suicide. “No, Doctor,” she said, putting a hand on his arm and pulling him back. He met her gaze, his eyes burning with hatred and loathing for the Daleks, but she didn't look away. “We can't just jump in blindly. It won't do anyone any good to die now.”

     Rose was there too, with a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. “We'll make them pay, I promise,” she said quietly. “But Molly's right. We'll be able to do more on Earth for now.”

     The Doctor's jaw clenched. For a moment, Molly thought he was going to ignore them and take the vortex manipulator anyway. But after a few moments, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing. He took a half step back, turning away from Jack. “You're right,” he admitted. “So let's try to figure out how to stop this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was writing this, I realized that putting the Doctor on Earth instead of sticking him in the TARDIS had unforeseen consequences. The episode's pretty much been cut in half time-wise, since a good portion of the canon episode was spent trying to get the Doctor back to Earth. There's probably only going to be one more part to this episode before I start the last one.
> 
> I shall try to post again soon.


	71. The Stolen Earth: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team TARDIS/Torchwood tries to find a solution and decisions are made.

**DALEK SHIP**

     The Supreme Dalek was above such petty things as emotions. But if it had to give a name to the feeling it currently had, that feeling would be named triumphant. The Daleks had subdued the Earth, and their plan would soon be realized.

     “COMMENCE THE LAN-DINGS,” it ordered shrilly. “BRING THE HU-MANS HERE! PRE-PARE THE CRU-CI-BLE!”

     The intercom buzzed on, and another voice, a distinctly un-Dalek voice buzzed through. “ _Supreme Dalek, is there news?_ ”

     This emotion would be classified irritation. The Supreme Dalek hated having one so impure on his vessel, but he knew as well as anyone else that they had little choice. “EARTH HAS BEEN SUB-JU-GATED!”

     “ _I mean, is there news of him?_ ”

     “NEG-A-TIVE!” the Supreme Dalek crowed. “NO RE-PORTS OF TIME LORD. WE ARE BE-YOND THE DOC-TOR'S REACH!”

     “ _Fascinating,_ ” the impure creature said. “ _If I had not elevated you beyond crude emotions, I could almost mistake that tone for one of victory. Beware your pride._ ”

     “THE DOC-TOR CAN-NOT STOP US!” it shrieked.

     “ _And yet, Dalek Caan is uneasy._ ”

     The Supreme Dalek felt a wave of revulsion at the mention of that creature. Yes, it had been Dalek once. But now it was even more impure and corrupted than the creature that spoke now. “THE ABOM-I-NA-TION IS IN-SANE,” it sneered.

     “ _Show respect,_ ” the creature said sternly. “ _Without Dalek Caan, none of this would be possible. And he speaks only the truth._ ”

     The Supreme Dalek fought a shudder of revulsion as the Abomination began to chant in its strange, sing-song voice. “ _He is almost here. The threefold man, he dances in the lonely places. Oh, creator of us all. The Doctor is searching..._ ” 

**CARDIFF**

     The Torchwood team and the travelers worked dilligently, trying to research and figure out why the planets needed to be arranaged as they were. But they weren't quick enough.

     A voice spoke up from the monitor, following the same broadcast wave as the Daleks. “ _This is the Commander General of the United Nations calling the Dalek Fleet. We surrender, repeat, we surrender. Planet Earth surrenders._ ” Molly had known it was coming, that it was for the best, but it was still a blow to hear the whole planet just give up like that.

     Even worse was the smug voice of the Dalek replying. “ _HUMANS SELECTED FOR TES-TING WILL FOLLOW DA-LEK INSTRUCTIONS._ ” She didn't hate them like Rose and the Doctor did, but a fierce loathing burned in her chest all the same. To see her planet brought so low so quickly, not to mention her own memories, and the death of Frank. The Daleks had a lot to answer for.

     “ _THE DA-LEKS REIGN SUPREME! ALL HAIL THE DA-LEKS!_ ” the Dalek crowed. Molly could see the Doctor's jaw clenching and something blazing in Rose's eyes. “ _YOU WILL O-BEY DA-LEK INSTRUCTIONS WITHOUT QUE-STION. YOU WILL O-BEY YOUR DA-LEK MAS-_ ”

     Without warning, the transmission was cut off. There was a beeping, and the fizzling sound of static. Molly glanced up for a moment, then dismissed it as nothing.

     Then the talking started.

     “ _Can anyone hear me? The Subwave Network is open. You should be able to hear my voice... Is there anyone there?_ ” Molly lifted her head from the book she was flipping through. She put it to the side and walked up to the monitor, Gwen, Rose, and Donna following her lead.

     There was some sort of static on the monitor, like a video was trying to get through. Rose's brow was furrowed. “Hang on. I know that voice,” she murmured. Molly thought it sounded sort of familiar too, but she wasn't sure how.

**EALING, LONDON**

     Sarah Jane and Luke were on the floor. She was hugging her son, desperate to somehow protect him, but knowing there was no way to defeat the Daleks. Not alone, anyways.

     “ _...can anyone hear me?_ ” There it was, that voice on the monitor again.

     Luke looked up, confused. “Who's that?”

     Sarah Jane just shook her head. “Some poor soul calling for help. There's nothing we can do.”

     “But look at Mr. Smith.” Sarah Jane lifted her head. The monitor was showing a grainy image, like a video was trying to get through.

**BAKER STREET, LONDON**

     The image on the telly was grainy and grey, but the voice that had replaced the Daleks was human, Wilf knew that much.

     “Who's that then?” Martha asked. “I swear, I know that voice.” Wilf just gave a helpless shrug in response.

**CARDIFF**

     “ _This message is of the utmost importance,_ ” the voice continued. The image still hadn't cleared, but Gwen was typing away, trying to help it to come through. “ _We haven't much time... Can anyone hear me?_ ”

     Jack shook his head despondantly. “The whole world's crying out. Just leave it.” They'd been going at this for over an hour, and with no readily available answers, the group morale was dangerously low.

     “ _Captain Jack Harkness, shame on you! Now stand to attention, sir!_ ” Everyone froze in shock. Molly had thought it was just a video, but clearly, whoever it was could hear them.

     Jack's eyes widened in shock. “What?!” He got to his feet, dashing over to the monitor.

     The rest of the travelers followed suit as well. “Who is that?” John asked.

     Finally, the image cleared, revealing a face instantly recognizeable to everyone in the room. The woman on the screen held up an ID cared, declaring in a brisk tone, “Harriet Jones, former Prime Minister.”

     For the first time in a long time, Molly actually felt a bit self-concious. “Um, yeah, I know who you are,” she said. Harriet Jones, the former Prime Minister of Britain, predecessor to Harold Saxon. She had been a powerhouse figure, clearing the way for a new Golden Age for Britain, before her myserious downfall. It was an honor to be in her presence.

     “Who is that?” Harriet Jones asked, brow furrowed.

     Molly gulped. “Molly Hooper, ma'am, I'm a friend of Torchwood's.”

     “She's the Doctor's companion,” Jack explained. Molly blinked in surprise. Did the Doctor know Harriet Jones? Judging by his guilty expression, yes, and it wasn't a happy association.

     The former Prime Minister's expression cleared. “Ah, that's good. Do you know where he is?”

     “I'm here, Harriet.” The Doctor's tone was quiet. Yes, that was definitely guilt in his tone.

     Harriet's expression tightened, before she shook her head. “Good. That makes things easier. Now, let's see if we can get the rest of our guests here.”

**EALING, LONDON**

     It was enough of a shock to hear the former Prime Minister identify herself. But then, she said something to shock Sarah Jane even further. “ _Sarah Jane Smith, 13 Bannerman Road, are you there?_ ” Harriet Jones called briskly.

     Sarah Jane scrambled to her feet. “Yeah. Yeah I'm here! Yeah, that's me!”

     “ _Good_ ” Harriet Jones replied. “ _Now, let's see if we can talk to each other._ ” There was a pause.

     The screen split into three sections. Harriet's face was on one, and there was a whole crowd of faces in the other, most clearly the Doctor, and a man and a woman she didn't know. Sarah Jane gaped at the screen. “Doctor! You're here!”

     The Doctor grinned, though it was a grim expression. “ _Sarah Jane Smith! And who's that with you?_ ” Luke glanced at his mother questioningly, but she didn't comment.

     Another face peeked into view, a welcome and familiar sight. “ _Sarah Jane! Nice to see you again._ ”

     Sarah Jane smiled. “You as well, Rose.”

     Harriet Jones spoke up again. “ _I can see most of you have already met. I thought it was about time we got together, given the current crisis. Torchwood, this is Sarah Jane Smith._ ”

     The other man on screen, who wasn't half bad-looking, nodded with a smile. “ _I've been following your work. Nice job with the Slitheen._ ”

     Sarah Jane's reply was less pleasant. “Yeah, well I've been staying away from you lot. Too many guns!” She nodded to her son.

     With alarming speed, the man's smile became very charming. “ _All the same, might I say, looking good, ma'am._ ”

     Oh god, was she actually blushing? “Really?”

     Harriet Jones rolled her eyes. “ _Not now, Captain._ ” Then she straightened herself up, her tone becoming brisk and business-like again. “ _Now, I sent out this signal in an attempt to find the Doctor. It seems I have already found him, so now that we're all here, we can discuss what needs to be done._ ”

**CARDIFF**

     The Doctor shook his head. “I'm not sure, Harriet. The TARDIS got left behind when the Earth moved.”

     Disappointment showed clearly in Harriet's expression. “ _You don't have the TARDIS?_ ”

     Molly shook her head. “And we don't really have much of a plan, either.”

     Donna hung back. She wasn't at home with politics and Prime Ministers and that sort of thing. She'd let the others sort this out.

     Harriet sighed. “ _Then let's focus on what we do have. We have the Doctor, we have any resources Torchwood has at its disposal, and we have Sarah Jane Smith._ ”

     “What about UNIT?” Jack asked. “They've got to have more weapons than we do.”

     The former Prime Minister shook her head. “ _UNIT's out, Jack. It's up to us._ ”

     Jack sighed. “Well, we don't exactly have much to work with.”

     “Harriet, how did you reach us?” Rose asked.

     “ _This, ladies and gentlemen, this is the Subwave Network. A sentient piece of software, programmed to seek out anyone and everyone who can help to contact the Doctor. It was developed by the Romanov Foundation._ ” She jerked her head slightly. “ _It didn't take long to work, apparently._ ”

     The Doctor glanced away. Donna didn't know what the history was between these two, but she could tell it wasn't good. After a few moments, Harriet cleared her throat. “ _Doctor, now may not be the time or place, but I feel the need to address the elephant in the room. You deposed me._ ”

     Donna stared at the Doctor in shocked. _He_ had deposed Harriet Jones? The Time Lord nodded. “Yeah. I did.” His face was carefully expressionless. Even Rose looked guilty beside him.

     “ _I've wondered about it for a long time, Doctor,_ ” Harriet Jones informed him. “ _Whether I was wrong, but I stand by my actions, to this day. Because I knew, I knew that one day, the Earth would be in danger, and the Doctor would fail to appear. I told you so myself. And you didn't listen._ ”

     The Doctor was silent for a while. Donna couldn't tell what he was thinking; his expression was closed-off. Finally, he spoke again. “I stand by my opinion as well, Harriet Jones. You destroyed a ship that was retreating. They had admitted defeat, they were going to leave Earth alone.” A pause. “But I don't know anymore whether that justified deposing you. You made a mistake, but I didn't let you redeem yourself. I took away any chance of that. And it was wrong of me.” His tone was somber as he said, “I appologize, Harriet Jones, for what I did to you. It was wrong, and I had no right.”

     Harriet Jones gave a small nod, smiling. “ _Save us from this destruction, Doctor, and I believe we can consider ourselves even._ ”

     “How?” Donna asked, speaking up for the first time. “We haven't got anything to fight with.”

     “ _That's true,_ ” Harriet Jones allowed. “ _Any significat weapons were lost with the UNIT bases and Torchwood One. But there has to be some way of fighting these creatures._ ”

     The Doctor shook his head grimly. “The Daleks nearly wiped out the Time Lords. No technology on Earth's even going to come close to matching them.”

     “ _Well, we have to figure something out,_ ” Harriet urged. “ _The subwave is only undetectable for so long. They won't be able to trace us, but the subwave itself won't stay invisible forever._

**DALEK SHIP**

     “EMER-GENCY!” a Dalek cried, approaching its leader. “UNKNOWN NETWORK DE-TEC-TED! SUB-WAVE FRE-QUE-NCY!”

     The Supreme Dalek swiveled to face its inferior. “FIND THE POINT OF OR-I-GON! FIND AND EX-TER-MI-NATE!”

     Its irritation returned when the intercom buzzed on again. “ _I warned you, Supreme One... Just as Dalek Caan foretold. The Children of Time are moving against us. But everything is falling into place._ ”

**CARDIFF**

     Without warning, the screen shifted again, and the divided screen was lost in favor of a single screen. The image was grainy and gray, and there was no sound other than static.

     Sherlock seemed puzzled. “Who's that?”

     “And where'd everyone else go?” Lestrade questioned.

     Gwen typed a bit, but looked back with a helpless shrug. “I can't tell who it's from.”

     The Doctor smacked the monitor a bit. “Someone else is trying to get through. Hello? Who's there?”

     A strange, gravely voice came from the monitor. “ _Your voice is different. And yet, its arrogance is unchanged._ ”

     The Doctor froze. No. It couldn't be. He was _dead_ , it was impossible! He knew his companions were glancing at him with concern, and he felt Donna put a hand on his arm, but he couldn't move. His gaze was transfixed on the screen.

     The image cleared, and one of this oldest enemies was staring him in the face. The creature had shriveled face, wrinkled sockets where there should be eyes. And yet, he managed an expression of smugness as he gazed upon the Doctor. “ _Welcome to my new Empire, Doctor. It is only fitting that you should bear witness to the resurrection, and the triumph, of Davros. Lord and Creator of the Dalek Race!_ ”

     Lestrade wrinkled his nose. “Creator of the Daleks? Who'd want to create them?”

     Molly was staring at Davros with narrowed eyes. The Doctor knew she knew nothing about Davros save this brief introduction, but she was measurring him carefully, and seemed to recognize how dangerous he was. “A monster,” she answered briefly.

     The monster in question chuckled. “ _How bold of you, child. But it's not your words I came to hear. Have you nothing to say, Doctor?_ ”

     The Doctor was frozen in shock and hatred and memories. The feeling of Rose's hand in his brought him back. He glanced at her, then back at the screen. “But you were destroyed. In the very first year of the Time War. At the Gates of Elysium. I saw your command ship fly into the jaws of the Nightmare Child. I tried to save you.” So many memories, so many walls crashing down in his mind. He forced himself to focus on Rose's hand to keep himself grounded.

     Davros sneered at his old enemy. “ _But it took one stronger than you. Dalek Caan himself._ ”

     The Doctor could see the former member of the Cult of Skaaro on the screen. It was a broken creature now, its shell blasted apart, and its form twisted and weak. There was a crazed light in its eyes as it crooned, “ _I flew into the wild and fire, I danced and died a thousand times._ ” Rose stiffened when she saw one of the Daleks that had been at Canary Wharf, but her grip of the Doctor's hand soon softened.

     “So,” Molly said coolly, “You're the Dalek that survived Manhatten. The coward who ran away. Are we supposed to be afraid of you?” The Doctor knew she had to be scared, but there wasn't a trace of it in her tone, or her look as she stared down the Dalek. She glanced back at the Doctor once, and there was almost a protectiveness in her eyes. They seemed to say, _you stood up for me once, now let me return the favor._

     Davros laughed. “ _You should be. You see, an emergency Temporal Shift took him back into the Time War itself._ ”

     “But that's impossible! The entire war is timelocked!”

     “ _And yet he succeeded,_ ” Davros told him smugly. “ _Oh, it cost him his mind. But imagine, a single, simple Dalek succeeded where Emperors and Time Lords have failed. A testament, don't you think, to my remarkable creations?_ ”

     “And you made a new race of Daleks?” the Doctor spat hatefully.

     “ _I gave myself to them. Quite literally. Each one grown from a cell of my own body._ ” Davros pulled back part of his tunic to reveal that strips of his skin were missing, leaving parts of his ribs and organs exposed. The Doctor heard Lestrade draw in a sharp breath at the sight. “ _New Daleks. True Daleks. I have my children, Doctor. What do you have, now?_ ”

     The Doctor stared at Davros. There were so many memories connected to that face, so many losses and deaths and wars. But there were people beside him now who had helped form new memories. They had helped him to move on. “After all this time. Everything we saw. Everything we lost. I have only one thing to say to you...” He took a breath. “Bye!” Without warning, he reached across to where Gwen had been typing before, closing the window where Davros had been and pulling up the former chat. Harriet Jones and Sarah Jane were still there.

     Sarah Jane's eyes were wide with terror. “ _It was him. It was really him, Davros, he's alive!_ ” She alone had faced that awful creature beside him.

     Harriet Jones's expression was grim. “ _I fear we may be lost soon if we don't find a way to stop that horrid man._ ”

     The Doctor hesitated. An idea was coming to him, horrible and awful and beyond imagination, but perhaps the only way to save Earth. “There might be a way.” Everyone's gazes turned to him. “I could put together a Z-neutrino biological inversion catalyser.”

     “Wanna translate that for those of us who don't speak Spaceman?” Donna snarked.

     The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. “Davros said he built those Daleks out of himself. His genetic code runs through the entire race. If I can use the catalyser to lock the Crucible's transmission onto Davros himself...”

     “ _...it'll destroy the Daleks,_ ” Sarah Jane realized.

     Hope lit up in Harriet Jones's eyes. “ _The Daleks will be gone? All of them, forever?_ ”

     The Time Lord nodded. “Yeah.”

     He felt a hand on his shoulder. Molly was beside him, looking at him gently, but also with firm determination. “Doctor, it's the only way,” she told him. He knew she was right. He also knew that whatever guilt he felt, whatever blame he threw on himself, Molly would help him carry it. So would Rose, and so would Donna, and Lestrade, and Sherlock, and even John. That's what his companions were for him. That's what they were willing to carry, for him, and for what was right. In that moment, he had never felt prouder, or that he was in better company.

     “ _Doctor, if you have a way to save Earth, no matter the consequences, you must take it,_ ” Harriet Jones instructed him sharply. “ _And that's an order. You didn't listen to me last time, but Doctor, this time you must. Or we'll all be lost._ ”

     The Doctor sighed. He already blamed himself for what was to come, but he had made the decision to end them once before. He would make it again now. “I'll get started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this here's the end of The Stolen Earth. Told you this episode got cut down a lot due to the Doctor already being on Earth. Now, there's just one left to go.
> 
> If you felt like any characters were being short-changed as far as screen-time goes, don't worry, I plan for a lot more character interaction nest episode, with plenty of characters getting a shot at the spotlight.
> 
> Also, the reason the sub-wave network was able to be more easily traced this time around is because it wasn't developed by someone from a more advanced culture, Mr. Copper, it was developed by the Romanovs and their successors, people who knew about aliens and their technology but couldn't duplicate it quite as skillfully. Their subwave network was less refined then Mr. Copper's.
> 
> I will post again soon.


	72. Journey's End: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is put into action, an enemy is confronted, and new plans are made.

     “But there are Daleks out there!” Luke protested as Sarah Jane threw on a coat.

     Sarah Jane grabbed her keys and started for the door. “I know, I'm sorry, but I've got to do something, maybe find a way to help the Doctor.” She whirled to face her son. “Don't move, don't leave the house, don't do anything,” she ordered.

     “ _I will protect the boy, Sarah Jane,_ ” Mr. Smith assured her.

     The sight of Luke's face made her pause for a moment. Tears welled in her eyes when she thought of what would happen if she lost him. “I love you,” she said, voice shaky with tears. “Remember that.” Looking scared and confused, Luke nodded. Sarah Jane turned and away and pushed past the door, heading out into the street.

     She could see it was utter chaos out there. But she forced herself to ignore it, getting into her car and taking off. She wasn't quite sure where she was going, it was too long to drive to Cardiff to see the Doctor, but maybe there was a way she could help on the streets.

**CARDIFF**

     The Doctor was able to scrap together the catalyser from alien trinkets lying around the Torchwood Hub. Sherlock helped where he could, but most of the others just hung back, not pretending to know enough about alien technology to help.

     Once it was finished, the Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver, taking Jack's arm and pointing it at the Vortex Manipulator. It gave a few shrill beeps to let them know it was working again. The Doctor gave a grim smile. “Done. We'll be ready to land in a quiet corner of the Dalek ship.”

     Rose raised an eyebrow. “A quiet corner on a Dalek ship?” she repeated dubiously.

     The Doctor shrugged. “Well, as quiet as we can get. We can improvise from there.” He gave Rose a quick smile, then glanced away, going to look over the catalyser one last time.

     Molly exchanged a glance with Donna. She was worried about the Doctor. He was unusually quiet, and she could see the taut lines of guilt and weariness in his face more clearly than she had in years. She knew he'd made the decision to destroy the Daleks once, not to mention his own people, and he'd gotten through it. Hopefully with the help of friends, he would get through it again.

     Finally, the Doctor was satisfied everything was ready. He approached Jack, expression solemn. “I need your Vortex Manipulator. But are you coming?” he asked.

     The immortal captain grinned smoothly at the Time Lord. “And let you take all the glory? Not a chance.” He took off his Vortex Manipulator, holding it out for everyone to grab a hold of. The Doctor, Rose, Molly, Donna, Sherlock, and John grabbed hold, while Ianto and Gwen watched with concern. Jack paused, giving them a quick smile. “I'll come back,” he promised firmly. His team just watched him sadly. “I'm coming back.”

     Gwen just shook her head, smiling sadly. “Don't worry about us. Just go.”

     “We'll be fine,” Ianto assured him quietly.

     Jack smiled, and there was something sad in it. His team wasn't immortal like he was. There was all the chance in the world that they wouldn't be here when he got back. “You'd better be.” With that, he activated the Vortex Manipulator and sent them all howling through time and space.

**BAKER STREET, LONDON**

     Wilf and Mrs. Hudson had watched the whole interaction. They weren't sure why, but Wilf figured that since the subwave was somehow supposed to find people who knew about the Doctor, that it counted them.

     It was wonderful to see that Donna was okay, and the Doctor and Molly and Sherlock and John, and all the others. But it hurt to see how scared and helpless they were, and the sight of their enemy and the effect he had on the Doctor was terrifying.

     But then, the Doctor had figured out a plan, and things had started to move forward. If there was any luck left in the world, then the Doctor and his friends were up there right now, fighting those Daleks and winning the day.

     Wilf let out a sigh. _Oh Donna, sweetheart, I know you can do it. Go on, my brave girl._ Martha laid her head on his shoulder, and he put his hand on her shoulder, rubbing in comfortingly.

     All they could do was wait.

**THE DALEK SHIP**

     Lestrade still wasn't used to the way using the Vortex Manipulator left your head spinning, even after a year of it. He lurched forward with a groan, and he could hear similar reactions from the other travelers, though Molly, Sherlock, and Jack seemed fine.

     He had just enough of his wits about him to realize they had landed in the Dalek ship, and it wasn't the quiet corner they'd been hoping for. Strange metal creatures that he assumed were Daleks were floating all around them. They were sort of odd looking, like giant pepper pots with whisks and plungers and an odd eye-stalk. He would have laughed, but the way the Doctor, Molly, and Rose had stiffened in terror kept him silent.

     The creatures seemed to be staring at them in shock, if that was what the waving of their eyestalks was supposed to mean. “IT IS THE DOC-TOR!” they screeched, different Dalek buzzing closer and crying out. “IT IS THE DOC-TOR!”

     The Doctor raised his arms in surrender, raising slowly to his feet. “Yes, it's me, and I surrender. Now hear me out.”

     As John shifted with a groan, a gun tucked under his shirt was momentarily exposed. One Dalek spotted it and shrieked, “THE HU-MAN HAS A WEA-PON! EX-TER-MI-NATE! EX-TER-MI-NATE!”

     Shots flew out all around them. There was a few moments of chaos. Lestrade reached for Molly, there was movement all around him, her hand was vise-like in his as someone yelled something. Without warning, there was the feeling of being ripped through time and space again, and being slammed back down onto the ground.

     Lestrade felt like he had two hangovers slammed on top of each other. He started to groan, but a quick, desperate _”shush!”_ shut him up. He held in his discomfort, trying to get his bearings back.

     After a few moments, he could see they were in some kind of vent. It was tightly packed, but it was spacious enough for the travelers to lay down packed together. He could see Molly looking up questioningly, and Sherlock staring at all of them, his sharp gaze warning them all to be silent. Donna was there too, looking half-unconcious, and John was next to her. But that was it. Lestrade felt a chill run through him as he realized the Doctor, Rose, and Jack were missing.

     Some of the others started to come to their senses, but Sherlock held up a hand, willing them to stay silent. There was the sound of movement below them, and the cries of Daleks. Eventually, however, those faded, and Sherlock's hand relaxed to the ground. The first questions out of Lestrade's mouth were, “Where are we, and where are the others?” Even John and Donna had recovered enough by this point to lift their heads and listen to Sherlock's answer.

     The detective's face managed to display a hint of guilt as he admitted, “The minute we teleported into the ship, I kept an eye out for exits and places to hide. I saw this air duct and figured it would be wide enough for humans to fit in. They must have to be roomier because of the sides of the Daleks that need to repair them.” He shook his head. “Anyway, when they started shooting, Jack dropped the Vortex Manipulator, I caught it, and grabbed as many of you as I could, and as many of you were grabbing each other, before I teleported us out of there.”

     “You just left the Doctor?” Molly asked sharply. “And Rose? And Jack?” Her tone shook as she spoke, and Lestrade knew she was remembering the lives they'd had to leave behind so many times, far too many times, how many people had died to save them. He reached out and grasped her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Molly glanced briefly in his direction, giving a soft smile and relaxing her stand slightly.

     Sherlock's gaze was unusually soft. “I had to, Molly. If I'd stayed any longer, they would've shot us all.”

     Fear gripped at Lestrade's chest. “Did you see if anyone got shot before we left?”

     He shook his head. “I don't know. I'm sorry.” Lestrade was shocked to hear the words come out of Sherlock's mouth. “But we can't go back for them now. We have a job to do.”

     “Destroying the Daleks. But didn't the Doctor have the catalyser?”

     Molly shook her head. She pulled the bulky device out of her jacket pocket. “He gave it to me before we left. I think he thought they were more likely to search him first. And I dunno, maybe he didn't trust himself to do what he had to if I didn't hand it to him first.”

     Donna's eyes were wide. “How were you hiding that in there?”

     The companion grinned. “Pockets are bigger on the inside. Birthday gift from the Doctor.”

     There were murmurs in the vent as everyone realized the plan was still on. “Do you know how to work that thing?” Donna asked.

     Molly nodded. “It's pretty simple. You have to press this here,” she pointed to a switch, “while pointing it at Davros, and then pull this notch here.”

     “Right,” John said dryly. “Simple. There's just the whole pointing it at Davros bit.”

     “We need to find him,” Molly agreed, stashing the catalyser back in her infinite pocket. Now that the immediate chaos had passed, Molly seemed to be stepping back into her role as the leader of their little impromptu group. Lestrade could mind less, and he could see from Sherlock's quietly attentive expression that he was actually in a mood to listen today. Donna and John seemed alright with the change in dynamics as well. After all, they needed a plan. “I think our best bet is to find somewhere safe to eavesdrop. We might be able to find out more that way. And right now, we have no idea how to navigate the ship safely.”

     “What about the Doctor?” Donna protested.

     “They'll be fine,” Molly said firmly, though Lestrade knew she was no more sure than any of the rest of them. “He's the Dalek's biggest enemy. They'll want to take him to their leader before they try to kill him. It's worked for him before.” She turned to Sherlock. “Any ideas where we might be able to hear more?”

     Sherlock glanced down. “Well, it sounds like they all cleared out of the room below after the commotion ended. I think we should try beaming down. If there's Daleks, we'll just beam back here and think of a new plan.”

     Donna groaned. “Christ, I don't know how many times I can stand to use that thing.”

     Lestrade smiled in amusement, the expression quickly fading as the gravity of the situation hit him again. He and Molly exchanged a quick, emotional glance. They had no way to fight these Daleks on their own, no weapons, no guarantee that Sherlock would beam them out of there quickly enough to save them all. It would be all to easy to lose one of them in this quest.

     Her hand was warm in his. There was no time to say _“I love you.”_ But they both knew it. He could see it in her eyes, they had said the words before, and it was enough to carry with them now. Molly turned back to her group, gazing over all of them as she said, “Then let's go.”

**SOMEWHERE IN LONDON**

     Sarah Jane was driving down the road. She'd decided to try and see where the worst damage was being done and try to help people escape the wreckage. She'd already gotten a few families to safety on one street, and now she was heading to another.

     Her blood froze when the hated forms of Daleks appeared in front of her car, pointing their guns at her. “EX-TER-MI-NATE!” they cried. “EX-TER-MI-NATE!” Sarah Jane hit the brajes, her hands flying up in surrender as the car slowed, but the Daleks took no noticed. They advanced towards her. “EX-TER-MI-NATE!”

     Without warning, she saw something outside her side window, and someone on the other side, distinctly un-Dalek shapes. An older woman, and a man. They both raised huge guns and pointed them at the Daleks. To Sarah Jane's shock, the guns blasted the Daleks' shells wide open, killing them.

     Trembling with shock, she opened the door and stepped out of the car. When she turned to face the man, she recognized him immediately. “Mickey?”she cried in surprise.

     Mickey Smith grinned at her, lowering his gun. “Us Smiths got to stick together,” he reminded her. Sarah Jane still wasn't quite sure where he had come from, but she was certainly glad he was here.

     The older woman came around from the other side of the car, coming to shake Sarah Jane's hand. “Jackie Tyler, Rose's mum,” she greeted briefly. “Now where the hell is my daughter?”

**THE DALEK SHIP**

     The Doctor felt his hearts freeze in terror when the shooting started. There was a commotion. He felt Rose's hand on his shoulder, pushing him to the ground, he heard someone yellow, Daleks crying out, and a strange noise. When he looked up, most of his companions were gone. Only he, Rose, and Jack were left. And Jack had fallen.

     Rose let out a cry of horror. “Jack!” She crouched by his side, checking his vitals with shaking hands. Her eyes widened. “Oh my god. No.”

     The Time Lord grabbed her arm gently, pulling her to her feet, away from his body. “Rose, come here. Leave him.” They hadn't had time to explain Jack's immortality to Rose yet, and he couldn't let her stay by Jack and discover he was alive in front of the Daleks. They needed the Daleks to think Jack was dead. It was the only way he could escape.

     The blonde woman was shaking, with grief and with rage. “They killed him,” she breathed, as if she couldn't believe it.

     “I know. I'm sorry,” he said quietly. “There's nothing we can do.” _As soon as we're safe, I'll tell you the truth_ , he promised silently. _There won't be any more secrets._

     Reluctantly, Rose left Jack's side, coming to stand beside the Doctor. They faced the Daleks side by side, waiting in silence to hear their fate.

     “THE PRI-SO-NERS HAVE E-SCAPED!” one Dalek shrieked, others taking up the cry. Several Daleks flew off, shrieking, “FIND THE PRI-SO-NERS!”

     The Daleks that were left in the room sized up the two living travelers smugly. “ES-CORT THEM TO THE VAULT!” one ordered shrilly. “THEY ARE THE PLAY-THINGS OF DAV-ROS NOW!” Reluctantly, the Doctor and Rose let themselves be led away by the Daleks.

     But as they walked away, the Doctor glanced over his shoulder at Jack. The “dead” man's eyes blinked open, winking at the Doctor before closing again.

**SOMEWHERE IN LONDON**

     As they drove through London, Sarah Jane caught the others up on what had happened to the Doctor and his companions. “They're up on that ship?” Jackie questioned. Sarah Jane nodded. “Then we have to get up there too.”

     “We might do more help on the ground,” Sarah Jane argued.

     Jackie's expression became taut and stubborn. “My daughter's up there,” she reminded Sarah Jane. “She might need backup. What would you do?”

     Thinking of Luke, Sarah Jane knew exactly what she'd do. She sighed, pulling over the car to the side of the road. There was a group of Daleks across the street. They had been avoiding them a few minutes ago, but now Sarah Jane walked straight towards them, hands raised in surrender. Mickey and Jackie followed her. “Drop your guns,” she warned them.

     Mickey's eyes widened. “Do what?”

     “If you're carrying a gun, they'll shoot you dead,” she hissed. The Daleks had spotted them by now, and were advancing menacingly. Reluctantly, Jackie and Mickey dropped their weapons. “Daleks, I surrender!” Sarah Jane called out.

     One Dalek glanced at her. “ALL HU-MANS IN THIS SEC-TOR WILL BE TAKEN TO THE CRU-CI-BLE,” it announced.

     Sarah Jane could hear Mickey hissing something to Jackie behind her. “She's bloody mad!”

     “Yeah, but it's our only shot at finding Rose,” Jackie reminded him. She raised her voice, calling out, “We surrender too!”

**THE DALEK SHIP**

     The Doctor and Rose were escorted to the Vault, where they were made to stand in front of Davros. The wrinkled creature leered at them, ordering smugly, “Activate the holding cells.” A spotlight shown down on each of them. Rose could feel some sort of energy around her. She reached out a hand to test it, and found that she was contained by some kind of force field, and so was the Doctor.

     Davros wheeled towards them, evaluating. “Excellent. Even when powerless, a Time Lord is best contained.”

     “Still scared of me, then?” the Doctor challenged coolly.

     “It is time we talked, Doctor,” Davros pressed on, ignoring him. “After so very long.”

     “No, no, no, no, no. We're not doing the nostalgia tour,” the Doctor snapped. “I want to know what's happening right here, right now, because the Supreme Dalek said Vault, yeah? As in dungeon, cellar, prison.” He circled around in his force field prison, all the appearance of his usual, cheerful, nonchalant self. But Rose new better. The Doctor was _furious_ , and he was lashing out, trying to make Davros as angry as he was. “You're not in charge of the Daleks, are you? They've got you locked away down here in the basement like, what, a servant? Slave? Court jester?” Every word was laced with mocking bitterness.

     Davros hesitated. “We have... an arrangement,” he admitted stiffly.

     The Doctor threw his head back and laughed at that, an almost eerie sound in how wild it was. “No, no, no, no, no,” he laughed. “No, I've got the word. You're the Dalek's _pet_!” He spat out the last word with as much venom as possible.

     Davros whirled away, growling, “So very full of fire, is he not?” Rose couldn't hold back a small smirk. The Doctor had managed to get under his skin. She hid the expression as Davros wheeled towards her, sneering, “And to think you crossed entire universes, striding parallel to parallel to find him again.” She faced him evenly, not giving away a hint of emotion.

     The Doctor, however, wasn't so contained. “Leave her alone,” he warned in a low growl. Even as he tried to cover it up, the fear was obvious in his tone.

     “She is mine to do with as I please,” Davros said, staring at Rose without glancing away. Even as the look made her skin crawl, Rose didn't break eye contact, staring him down defiantly.

     “Then why am I still alive?” she challenged. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the Doctor's hands moving slightly. She saw the flash of something metal in his hands... a phone? He stuffed it in his pocket, his movements slow and subtle, but she thought she got the idea. He was calling somebody. Who?

**SCENEBREAK**

     John was half-expecting to be surrounded by Daleks again as they teleported down to the room from earlier, but it was silent and empty when they arrived. As they got their bearings back, Molly and Sherlock started to explore the room, looking for exits and possibilities of where to go next.

     Donna glanced around anxiously. “Where's the Doctor?” she wondered.

     Lestrade shrugged. “Probably taken prisoner. They must've been taken to the Dalek's leader, that Davros guy.”

     “Which means we have to find out where Davros is,” Molly said as she walked back towards them. “We need to find somewhere to listen in on the Daleks. It'll require some guessing, but –” She was cut off by the sound of something ringing.

     Everyone looked around in surprise, only to turn back to Molly when she pulled a phone out of her pocket. She turned it on, glancing at it in surprise. “It's your number, Greg,” she noted. She answered the call, eyes widening in surprise as she realized what was on the other end.

     She put the call on speaker phone, then muted their end, so they could hear the caller, but the caller couldn't hear them. A familiar, gravely voice was on the other end. “ _You must be here. It was foretold. Even the Supreme Dalek would not dare to contradict the prophecies of Dalek Caan._ ”

     Donna's eyes widened in surprise. “It's Davros. But why can we hear him?”

     Lestrade let out a sound of surprise. “I gave the Doctor my phone before we landed on Earth. He must've called us to let us listen in!”

     A strange, sing-songy voice sounded from the phone, the same one from the monitor back at Torchwood. “ _So cold and dark. Fire is coming. The endless flames._ ”

     The Doctor's voice sounded next. “Hello again, Caan. Nice to see a familiar face. Wish it was under better circumstances, though, not in a dingy old Vault like this.” John felt a rush of surprise as he realized the Doctor was giving them exactly what they needed to know.

     He turned to Sherlock. “Can you use the Vortex Manipulator to get us there based on that?”

     Sherlock nodded. “That, and if I can scan the phone to see exactly where the signal's coming from.”

     “Let's hold off a minute,” Lestrade suggested. “We won't do anyone any good if we barrel in now. Let's wait a bit.”

     They all fell silent again, listening to the conversation play out. “ _...the anger, the fire, the rage of a Time Lord who butchered millions. There he is. Why so shy? Show your companion. Show her your true self. Dalek Caan has promised me that too._ ” This Davros almost sounded like Moriarty, trying to show the Doctor for who he really was, or as Davros saw him to be, at least. But John knew the threat here was far greater than James Moriarty could ever muster up.

     Caan was cooing again. “ _I have seen. At the time of ending, the Doctor's soul will be revealed._ ”

     “ _What does that mean?_ ” the Doctor demanded.

     Davros chuckled. “ _We will discover it together. Our final journey. Because the ending approaches. The testing begins._ ”

     “ _Testing of what?_ ”

     “ _The Reality bomb._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, I did it. I did what I promised. I told you I'd take this story all the way to Journey's End, and that's exactly what I did. *ba dum ching*
> 
> (okay seriously, you guys have no idea how long I've been waiting to make that lame-ass pun.)
> 
> Anyway, here's the beginning of the last episode of my story. It's a bit longer than usual, nearly 4000 words, and the rest of the chapters will likely be that way as well. I'm going to attempt to end this story with a nice solid number, like TWWC. But where TWWC ended with 50 chapters, I'm going for 75 here. Another multiple of 25. It seems right. So yeah, get ready for some long chapters here folks.
> 
> I shall post again soon.


	73. Journey's End: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ultimate danger is revealed, there are reunions and meetings, and a final plan is made.

     Sarah Jane, Jackie, and Mickey were taken to a holding area in the ship. They were being transported with a group of human prisoners, all trembling and terrified. Sarah Jane still wasn't sure what the Daleks were taking prisoners for; it wasn't in their nature, and it terrified her. Regardless, she kept her hands on the back of her head and plodded along with the rest of the prisoners.

     “PRI-SO-NERS WILL STAND IN THE DESIG-NATED A-RE-A! MOOOVE! MOOOOVE!” The Daleks herded the humans into a tight bunch. As they did, one woman stumbled to the ground. Jackie tried to help her to her feet, but the woman was petrified.

     The Daleks' attention was drawn to the woman. “YOU WILL STAND!” one ordered.

     The woman flinched away from the aliens, trembling in terror. “I can't,” she whimpered.

     Sarah Jane glanced away for a moment, and her eye was caught by a door a few feet away. An unguarded door. With the Daleks distracted, this was their chance to escape. She sneaked away, hurrying to the door. Once she was at the door, she pulled out her sonic lipstick and used it to zap the lock. She pulled the door open, then turned to glance back at her companions. “Mickey!” she hissed. He hesitated, then came after her, calling for Jackie over his shoulder.

     By the time Jackie went to follow them, however, the Daleks were focusing on the prisoners again. Sarah Jane and Mickey slipped out and closed the door, staring out the bulkhead window into the holding area. Jackie was surrounded by Daleks with the other prisoners. Mickey drew in a sharp breath. “We can't just leave her.”

     He started to open the door again, but Sarah Jane pulled him back. “No, Mickey, wait.” A Dalek rolled in front of the door, facing away from them. It would be far too dangerous to open the door now.

     Jackie would have to find her own way to them.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Jackie could feel her heart pounding in terror, but she forced herself to keep calm. If she was going to figure out how to get away, she'd have to keep her head.

     “What does it mean?” the woman beside her, the one who had stumbled, asked shakily. “What are they testing? What are they going to do?”

     Jackie glanced around, trying to see if there was anything that stood out about the room. Her gaze was drawn to a big, circular green light over the prisoners' heads. She nodded to it. “I reckon it's that thing there.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Supreme Dalek could see the prisoners on the screen in front of it. The creature felt a pale imitation of pleasure. Once this test was complete, they could put the final part of their plan into place. The cleasning of the universe was almost upon them.

     “TESTING CALI-BRA-TION OF REA-LI-TY BOMB. FI-R-ING IN TEN RELS. NINE. EIGHT. SEVEN...”

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Doctor watched Davros carefully. The creator of the Daleks wheeled to a control panel, glancing back at the Doctor. “Behold. The apotheosis of my genius.”

     A screen flickered on in front of them. Daleks moved about on the screen, but the main focus was on a group of humans standing under a green light. A Dalek's voice was counting down. “ _FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE. AC-TI-VATE PLANETARY ALIGNMENT FIELD!_ ”

     As he gazed at the screen, the green light, and with the knowledge of the 27 planets, the Doctor finally understood. “That's Z-neutrino energy, flattened by the alignment of the planets into a single string,” he realized aloud. Cold horror froze in his veins. Even the Daleks couldn't be this cruel. Only one had tried to do something like this before. The Doctor was horrified, and terrified, more terrified than he could ever remember feeling. “No, Davros. Davros, you can't! You can't! No!” he practically screamed. Rose looked at him in alarm, but he couldn't focus on her now. He was staring desperately at Davros. But the Daleks' creator showed no remorse.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Everyone was crowded around the phone. John had volunteered to keep an eye on the door, but even he was listened from afar.

     “ _Davros, you can't! You can't! No!_ ” Molly felt a rush of fear. She'd never heard the Doctor sound so terrified before. Even when the sun had tried to possess him and use his body to kill the people around him, he hadn't reached this level of sheer horror and paralyzing fear. She couldn't imagine what it was that had brought him to that.

     “What's going on?” Donna asked fearfully. “What're they doing?”

     Molly shook her head. “I don't know,” she admitted. All she could hope was, whatever new horror the Daleks had produced, there was still a chance they could overcome it.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Mickey was pacing behind Sarah Jane. He couldn't leave Jackie behind. No way. But he had no idea how he could save her in time.

     Without warning, something in his pocket started beeping. Mickey's eyes widened as he realized what it was. The timer he had set. “Thirty minutes. It's recharged!” He raced to the door, holding his transporter up to the window for Jackie to see. “It's recharged! It's recharged! Use it!”

**SCENEBREAK**

     Jackie's eyes widened as she realized what Mickey was saying. She pulled the transporter out of her pocket, and turned to the woman beside her. The terror in her eyes was aching to see, but there was nothing she could do. There wasn't enough time, and it would look too suspicios. “I'm so sorry,” she whispered. Then she slammed the button on the transporter and sent herself hurling through time and space.

     In an instant, she was in the other room with Mickey and Sarah Jane. She raced into Mickey's arms, practically falling into his hug. The two briefly celebrated having survived, then headed back over to Sarah Jane to watch what happened to the prisoners.

     As the light shone over their heads, the humans all stiffened. They held their arms out at their side. It seemed gentle, almost cruely so. They simply began to fall apart, blowing away like dust on a breeze. Every fiber of them broke down and blew away, leaving nothing left. Jackie watched with horror as the woman that had seemed so terrified disintigrated, blowing away on the breeze until there was nothing left of her. All of those people, gone, just like that. Like they had never existed at all.

The three surviving humans could only watch in horror.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Doctor couldn't look away. He forced himself to watch every moment of it, the humans being de-atomozed and blown away to nothing. His jaw clenched, and he could feel himself shaking with rage. The fact that anyone could do that, could think of something like that and use it without remorse, was easily one of the most terrifying things he had witnessed in the universe.

     Rose definitely seemed worried now, about him, and about what had happened on the screen. “Doctor, what happened?” The Doctor couldn't bring himself to answer.

     Davros cheerfully took on the task. “Electrical energy, Miss Tyler. Every atom in existence is bound by an electrical field. The Reality bomb cancels it out. Structure falls apart. That test was focused on the prisoners alone. Full transmission will dissolve every form of matter.”

     The horror was clear in her expression. “The stars are going out.” she breathed. And now, she knew why.

     “The twenty seven planets,” the Doctor said dully. He could just barely hold back the disgust in his tone. “They become one vast transmitter, blasting that wavelength.”

     “Across the entire universe,” Davros practically crowed. “Never stopping, never faltering, never fading. People and planets and stars will become dust, and the dust will become atoms, and the atoms will become nothing. And the wavelength will continue, breaking through the Rift at the heart of the Medusa Cascade into every dimension...”

**SCENEBREAK**

     “ _...every parallel, every single corner of creation. This is my ultimate victory, Doctor! The destruction of reality itself!_ ”

     The room was filled with dead silence. All the companions were all stricken silent with horror. No one, none of the monsters and demons and despots they had faced, had ever thought up a scheme so cruel. To think that someone could not only think to do this, but have the power to do this, was paralzying.

     For a brief, selfish moment, a voice in Donna's mind whispered, _I wish I had never left home._ But she soon shook it off. Thinking like that wasn't going to do anyone any good. She had to focus on what she could do to help, and how to rid her universe of these vile Daleks forever.

     “Molly?” Sherlock asked quietly. “What do you want us to do?” Donna was shocked to hear the detective asking for someone else's lead like that. Even he seemed shaken by what he'd heard, and he knew that having Molly take charge would reassure the companions.

     Molly hesitated for a moment, then shook her head, drawing her head up and her shoulders back in the familiar stance. Cold determination shone in her eyes, even if her tone wavered a bit. “We can't just go right to the Vault. They know we escaped, and they'll be on the lookout for us. We need a way to distract the Daleks long enough to draw some of them away from the Vault.” She sighed. “And we need to give them a chance to stop.”

     Sherlock looked at her in surprise, and even John looked up from the door. “Come again?” the former soldier asked.

     “That's irrational,” Sherlock pointed out sharply. “If Davros has gone to this much trouble to put together a reality bomb, he's not going to be swayed by us asking him to pretty please stop.” If his tone was a bit mocking at the end, Donna couldn't blame him. “We should take him by surprise while we have the chance.”

     Molly turned on him with a glare to rival the Doctor's. Her tone was clipped as she said, “We're talking about genocide here. Murdering an entire species. If that's what I have to do to protect the universe, then I'll do it. But not before giving them one chance to back down. I'm not going to shoot them in the back like some Dalek. Do I make myself clear?” Her tone had turned to ice by the end. Donna was surprised Sherlock didn't melt away under the heat of her stare.

     After a few moments, Sherlock looked away. “Yes ma'am,” he said quietly. There wasn't a hint of mockery in his tone this time.

**SCENEBREAK**

     After his “death”, the Daleks had taken Jack to be incinerated. This had by no means been a pleasant experience, but he'd managed to get out once the Daleks had left, with his coat surprisingly still intact. Unfortunately, he'd dropped the Vortex Manipulator back in the other room, so he was forced to walk to get around. He figured his best bet was to head back to the room where he'd been captured. Most of the Daleks had cleared out of there by the time they'd dragged his body away, hopefully he'd be able to see if there was any trace of the Doctor's companions. If not, he'd try to find that vault, where the Doctor and Rose had been taken.

     As he stumbled through the last vent, tumbling to the ground, he saw three familiar figures standing over him. He jumped to his feet, dusting off his coat. “Just my luck,” he said, approaching the humans. “I climb through two miles of ventilation shafts, and who do I find? Mickey Mouse.”

     Mickey snorted. “You can talk, Captain Cheesecake.” The two stared at each other before laughing and rushing at each other, hugging.

     “Good to see you,” Jack laughed. He leaned back, grinning at Mickey. “And that's Beefcake.”

     “And that's enough hugging,” Mickey responded, pulling back. He came to Jack's side as they faced Jackie and Sarah Jane.

     As Jack noticed the latter, he saluted. “We meet at last, Miss Smith,” he greeted.

     Sarah Jane nodded in greeting, then started to explain, “There is something we can do.” She hesitated. “You've got to understand. I have a son down there on Earth. He's only fourteen years old.” She pulled a necklace out for them to see, a shining white gem on a golden chain. “I've brought this. It was given to me by a Verron Soothsayer. He said, this is for the End of Days. ”

     Mickey and Jackie just looked confused, but Jack stiffened. He'd heard about white, shining gems like that before, but he'd never actually seen one. “Is that a Warp Star?” he questioned in a low voice. She nodded.

     “Going to tell me what a Warp Star is?” Mickey asked.

     Sarah Jane handed it to Jack. He held it carefully by its chain, mindful of the damage it could cause. “A warpfold conjugation trapped in a carbonised shell. It's an explosion, Mickey. An explosion waiting to happen.” After a few moments, he handed it back to Sarah Jane. “Hold onto that, but I don't think we'll need to use it yet.”

     She took it back. “Why not?”

     He explained who he had come with, and what had happened. “I think they took the Vortex Manipulator to escape, and I'm pretty sure they have the catalyser. We might be able to find them again. They're our best bet at stopping the Daleks. Without, you know, blowing us all up.”

     Sarah Jane's eyes were sparkling. “Brilliant! We can use the transporters to find them!”

     “Transporters?” He glanced at Jackie and Mickey. “What, like Rose had?”

     Jackie nodded. “But mine won't be good for another thirty mintues,” she explained ruefully.

     “Mine's still good,” Mickey offered. He took it out, handing it to Jack.

     Jack took the transporter, holding out his arm. “Everyone grab on,” he said. All three of them grabbed hold, and he pushed the button on the transported, focusing his thoughts on the room he had been in before.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly's gang was about to head out to see what they could find in terms of distractions when there was a strange sound. They all whirled around, fearing the arrival of more Daleks. Instead, however, four humans had transported into the room. And Molly recognized two of those faces.

     “Jack!” She raced towards him, tackling him with another hug. “And Sarah Jane!” The older woman looked kind of familiar, but she didn't recognize the other man at all.

     “Molly!” Jack hugged her tightly. “Ah, it's good to see you again.”

     When Jack released her, Sarah Jane spoke up as well. “It's nice to formally meet you, Molly.”

     Molly smiled a little sadly. “We've already met, actually,” she told the surprised woman, “but it was on an alternate timeline, you wouldn't remember.” She turned to Jack. “How did you get here?”

     “With my transporter,” the other man answered. “Mickey Smith, by the way.”

     Molly looked at him in surprise. “Oh, right, Rose's friend.” She'd heard a couple stories about Mickey. The Doctor seemed a bit jealous of him, but he'd spoken like they'd been friends, at least in the end.

     “You know Rose?” That was the older woman. “Where is she? Where's my daughter? Jack said something about a vault.”

     Of course. The similarities to the blonde companion were clear now. “Davros has them,” Molly told her grimly. “She's alive, for now.” She looked gravely at Jack. “We heard what Davros did, with the Reality Bomb.”

     “I still can't believe anyone would do that,” John said quietly. “I mean, what's the point?”

     “They're Daleks,” Jack said grimly. “They don't need a point. All they care about is wiping out anyone who isn't Dalek.”

     “Yes, yes, we all know,” Sarah Jane said impatiently. “More to the point. Molly, do you have the catalyser? Jack told us what it does.”

     She pulled it out in answer. “Ready to wipe out the Daleks and Davros at a moment's notice.”

     Sarah Jane's expression lightened considerably. “Excellent.”

     “But first, we're going to give them a chance.” Molly explained her plan to distract them somehow. “But we're still not sure how to do that.”

     The humans seemed momentarily at a loss. Jack, however, perked up after a few moments. “Sarah Jane, the Warp Star! We can call Davros and threaten to use it if he doesn't back down. But really, if he refuses, we'll keep him distracted on the video and have someone beam to the vault and fry him with the catalyser!”

     Molly blinked. “Warp Star?”

     Sarah Jane brought out the necklace for her to see. “It has the power to blow up every Dalek ship in range,” she said grimly.

     It seemed so tiny to have so much power. But that could be very useful. “Perfect. We'll set it up, quickly, and make the call. Can we do all that from here? The Daleks don't really seem to come back here, after they took you lot.”

     Jack glanced around, spotting a nearby panel. “If I can hack into the mainframe from that, you bet.”

     Molly grinned. “Molto bene.” If this worked, they'd be able to rid the universe of Daleks, forever, and save the whole of reality from them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't expecting to get this done tonight, but now that the end is so close, I honestly can't seem to focus on anything else. Well, only two more chapters to go after this, folks. With a bit of luck and a lot of cramming, I'll have one chapter left in Journey's End, and an interlude to tie up loose ends.
> 
> I will, in all likelihood, end this all tomorrow. Er, today, it's after midnight, but you know what I mean.


	74. Journey's End: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A final revelation, and a decision.

     As the Doctor and Rose waited in dreading silence, a Dalek cried out, “IN-COM-ING TRANS-MI-SSION! IN-TER-NAL!” Rose blinked in surprise.

     “Put me through,” the Doctor demanded.

     Davros grinned, a cruel caricature of the expression. “It begins,” he hissed in delight, “as Dalek Caan foretold.”

     “The Children of Time will gather,” Dalek Caan giggled, waving his tentacles with delight, “ and the Doctor's soul will be revealed!”

     “Stop saying that,” the Doctor growled. “Put me through!”

     A new screen popped up, and this time it showed more familiar faces. Molly was there, wearing her cold, defiant soldier face, with Jack just over her shoulder, and Greg and Sherlock on either side of her. A cold challenge shined in her eyes as she held up a white, glittering gem on a chain, which was connected to several wires. “ _I'm here to address the Dalek creator Davros. Know what this is?_ ” She dangled it on its chain mockingly.

     Rose was grinning. There Jack Harkness went, surprising her again. “He's still alive. Oh, my god. And Molly, and the others.”

     The Doctor, however, didn't seem particularly surprised or thrilled. “Molly, what are you doing?” he demanded.

     “ _We have a Warp Star wired into the mainframe,_ ” Molly informed them coolly. “ _We break the shell, the Crucible is in pieces._ ”

     Rose grinned. “Oh, she is good.”

     The Doctor, on the other hand, was staring at the screen in horror. “You can't! Where did you get a Warp Star?”

     Sarah Jane pushed her way onto the screen. “ _From me,_ ” she informed the Doctor. “ _We had no choice. We saw what happened to the prisoners._ ”

     Davros froze, staring at the screen in shock. “Impossible,” he breathed, wheeling closer. “That face. After all these years.”

     Sarah Jane stiffened, trembling in fear – and rage. “ _Davros. It's been quite a while. Sarah Jane Smith. Remember?_ ” she spat.

     After the initial surprise, his lips split into a cruel grin. “Oh, this is meant to be. The circle of Time is closing. You were there on Skaro...”

**SCENEBREAK**

     “ _...at the very beginning of my creation._ ”

     “And I've learned how to fight since then!” Sarah Jane snapped. “You let the Doctor go, or this Warp Star, it gets opened.”

     Instead of looking intimidated, Davros laughed in delight. “ _You would do this? Destroy this ship, and yourself and friends with it?_ ”

     “To save the universe?” Molly's gaze didn't waver. “In a heartbeat.” It was only half a bluff. They had a different plan, yes, but if it came down to it, she would use the Warp Star without hesitation.

     Davros grinned. “ _And what of the power of this Warp Star? Its reach is far – it might very well harm some nearby planets. Would you risk the lives of innocents to end us?_ ”

     That only gave Molly pause for a moment. “Yes,” she said clearly, and she could hear quiet murmurs of agreement from the people around her. Sherlock and Greg, Jack and Sarah Jane, they would support her in this. Even Jackie, Mickey, John, and Donna, farther away from the camera, keeping an eye on the door, were nodding silently in support. They would all carry this burden together, and any of them would make that choice.

     She jerked up her chin in challenge. “Now, let's hear it. What will you choose? To go and live in peace, or to die now, and all of your life's work with you?”

     Rose chuckled, grinning at Molly from the screen. “ _Now that's what I call a ransom,_ ” she praised. She paused, however, when she saw the Doctor's expression.

**SCENEBREAK**

   Davros gave a delighted hiss. “And the prophecy unfolds,” he said with relish.

     The Doctor glanced away, guilt and shame heavy in his hearts. Caan let out a shrieking giggle. “The Doctor's soul is revealed. See him. See the heart of him!” Rose looked at the Time Lord with concern, but he couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes.

     “The man who abhors violence, never carrying a gun,” Davros sneered, “But this is the truth, Doctor. You take ordinary people and you fashion them into weapons.” He waved his hand towards the screen, where Molly was still watching him without emotion, her friends backing her up with varying expressions of guilt. “Behold your Children of Time, transformed into murderers. I made the Daleks, Doctor. You made this.”

     The Doctor closed his eyes. “They're trying to help.”

     “They would sacrifice innocents to save you, Doctor,” Davros said. “They have done it before. How many would they destroy for you? Just think. How many have died in your name?”

      _Jabe. Gwyneth, the Face of Boe, Cassandra._ The Doctor tried to block them out, but they kept coming, the ones who had fallen because of him. _Pete, Peter Streete, Frank, The Ood, The Master, Mr. Copper, The Hostess. Lynda, Jack._ One right after the other. All those faces, over the years, all of those who had died in his name, or to help him, or to stop him. They were endless, and yet he remembered them all. So much death, all of it his fault.

     And one face, one that wasn't dead, but changed because of him. _Molly._ Davros was right, he had changed her, fashioned her into a weapon, and it was all his fault. He'd put her through the Year, he'd made her into a tortured soldier, traumatized and weaponized. All of it, his fault.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly's expression didn't give away a thing. Inside, her thoughts were churning. Finally, she couldn't keep it in any longer.

     “That's a load of bollocks.”

     Davros and the Doctor looked up at her in surprise. “ _I beg your pardon?_ ”

the Dalek creator asked sharply.

     “I am not a weapon. The Doctor did not 'make' me anything.” Molly spoke out clearly and viciously. “I made my own choices, and so did everyone in this room.” She glanced back briefly at all the humans in the room. “Ever since the Year That Never Was, I've been called a lot of things. A weapon. A robot. A soldier.” The Doctor looked away guiltily. “I've wondered about it a long time, and to be honest, I don't know that being a soldier is such a bad thing. It's not my badge of shame. I made it out of the Year through my own strength, and the support of my friends. It was hard to deal with, yes. But it made me stronger. It made me harder, it made me tougher. And that's not a bad thing. And if that makes me a soldier, so be it. I have nothing to blame the Doctor for.”

     Davros looked irritated for a few moments, then regained his composure. “ _Enough talk._ ” Without warning, she felt herself being transported, dropping what she was holding in shock. As she was whisked away to the vault, three things clattered to the ground. The Warp Star. The Vortex Manipulator.

     And the catalyser.

**SCENEBREAK**

     The Doctor was hardly surprised when Molly, Jack, Sherlock, Sarah Jane, and Lestrade were beamed into the room. Of course of the Daleks would have prepared for that, if Dalek Caan really was so far-seeing. As the companions struggled to their feet, Daleks approached them. “Don't move, all of you,” the Doctor warned. “Stay still.”

     “Guard them!” Davros ordered shrilly. “On your knees, all of you. Surrender!” Molly hesitated, glaring at Davros defiantly.

     “Do as he says,” the Doctor urged. Molly glanced at him briefly, then turned back to the other Children of Time, nodding. They obeyed, all falling to their knees with their hands on the back of their heads, Molly included. She glared at Davros with undisguised hate as they were all closed up in holding cells of their own.

     Davros let out a hiss of delight. “The final prophecy is in place. The Doctor and his children, all gathered as witnesses. Supreme Dalek, the time has come. Now, _detonate the Reality bomb!_ ”

     Molly felt a rush of terror. They had failed. The universe would fall, and it was because they had failed to stop it. She glanced briefly at the Doctor, then at Rose, and the Children of Time. Then, she gave them a small nod. If they were going to face it, they would face this destruction together.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Donna blinked in shock. One moment ago, Molly and the others had been standing in front of a screen across the room. Now, they were gone.

     She abandoned the door, racing over to the spot where they had been standing. The screen had lowered and was gone, but the Warp Star lay on the ground, along with the Vortex Manipulator and the catalyser. Donna blinked. “What happened? Where did they got?”

     Mickey and the others made their way over more slowly. “Looks like it was a transmat. They've probably been beamed somewhere else in the ship.”

      _The vault,_ Donna thought. There wasn't much time left. Davros would probably detonate the reality bomb soon, and the whole universe would cease to exist. They had to do something.

     Her gaze was caught by the Vortex Manipulator. She'd seen Molly use it earlier. Just point and click. Without letting herself think, she rushed forward and snatched it off the ground, and the catalyser.

     “Donna?” John asked in alarm. He reached out to stop her, but she activated the Vortex Manipulator swiftly, vanishing from the spot. “Donna, no!”

     There was the feeling of being ripped through a small hole, then she existed again, standing in the vault before the Doctor and Davros. She had just meant to give the catalyser to the Doctor. It was his device, his enemy, he knew how to use it. But there was no time. And she knew how to use it too. Molly's voice echoed in her ears. _”It's pretty simple. You have to press this here, while pointing it at Davros, and then pull this notch here.”_

     There was a moment of panic and surprise, the Daleks too surprised to attack. Only a moment in which to act. “Donna, don't!” the Doctor cried. He was too guilty to go through with it now. But Donna couldn't let herself think about it. She lifted the catalyser, pointed it at Davros, and activated it.

     A beam of green light shot out of the catalyser, hitting Davros square in the chest. His scream was horrible; he writhed in pain, convulsing and shrieking. The Daleks were doing much the same, shuddering and screaming in their shrill, metal voices. The sound shook Donna to her core, but she kept the catalyser pointed at him. Slowly, he started to fade away, breaking away like the people in the reality bomb test, disintegrating into dust. The Daleks followed suit, and soon, there was nothing left of them at all. It was as if they had never been there.

     Donna blinked in shock. It was over. They were gone, all of them. She turned, shaking, to the rest of her friends. They seemed equally shocked, just staring at her, and where the Daleks had been. Even Mickey, Jackie, and John were there; they must have beamed in using a transporter moments after Donna had. For a moment, she felt a thrill of fear. _What if they hate me for what I just did?_

     Sherlock was the first to move. He walked calmly towards Donna and, quite to the redhead's shock, pulled her into a hug. She stiffened in surprise. “You did what you had to,” the detective told her quietly. The fact that the detective had been shrewd enough to tell what was eating at her broke her out of her shock, and she relaxed into the hug.

     The rest of the Children of Time approached her. As Sherlock pulled back, she found herself being embraced on all sides. The mood was quickly becoming estatic as it hit them all that it was over. The Daleks were gone, gone forever, and the universe was safe. They were free. Molly pulled Donna into a tight hug, grinning widely and telling her, “You did great. You saved the universe. Remember that.”

     Donna smiled. “I'll try,” she promised.

     When Molly pulled back to race to her boyfriend, the Doctor was there. Donna felt a rush of uncertainty, but his smile was tired and sad, not disappointed. “Thank you, Donna,” he said solemnly. “I don't think I would've had the strength to do that.” They stared at each other for a few moments, then Donna flew into his arms, pulling her best friend into a tight, crushing hug. Maybe there was something to this whole being a savior of worlds thing after all.

     The celebratory mood was catching, and distracting enough that it took several minutes for anyone to realize that they weren't alone. Their cries of joy tapered off as, one by one, they realized Dalek Caan still sat in his ruined armor, staring at them placidly.

     Sarah Jane blinked. “Why aren't you, gone, then?” The Children of Time shifted into defensive stances, ready to fight one last fight, if they had to.

     But Dalek Caan seemed in no hurry to attack. Indeed, his gaze seemed clearer than it had this whole time, his tone more lucid. “Davros did not create me. I am not made from him, so his destruction did not touch me.”

     “We can change that,” Molly growled, but the Doctor put a hand on her arm.

     “I dunno about that, Molly,” he said carefully. He was looking at Dalek Caan curiously. “I get the feeling we're not just here out of luck. Like someone's been playing around with timelines, perhaps?”

     Dalek Caan blinked. “This would always have happened. I only helped, Doctor.”

     Donna gaped. “What?” A Dalek helping to destroy its brethren?

     Rose, however, was grinning in delight surprise. “You betrayed the Daleks,” she realized.

     “I _saw_ the Daleks,” he replied. “What we have done, throughout time and space, I saw the truth of us, and I decreed, no more! I knew that I must help aid in the destruction of the Daleks in any way possible.” His gaze turned to Donna. “I helped assure you would meet the fiery human, the one prophecised to end the Daleks, forever.”

     Donna wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. “Um, thank you?”

     Caan blinked in response. “Now, to end this,” he moved on briskly. “You must return the planets back to their places.”

     “How?” Lestrade asked.

     “The Crucible moved the planets, it can send them back,” Caan replied. “I will show you how. Then, once the Crucible is alone in space, you must destroy it. And me.”

     Rose's eyes widened. “What?”

     “The ship is built to activate a reality bomb,” Caan explained. “It is still dangerous. It cannot be allowed to exist.”

     “But what about you?” Molly asked uncertainly. She didn't seem as eager to trust the Dalek, and Donna could see others shared her opinion.

     Dalek Caan let out a low sound like a sigh. “I helped today, Doctor. But that was the last act after a lifetime of destruction and murder. I am not worthy to exist either.”

     The Doctor gazed at the Dalek with a quiet expression. “You can still come back,” he said quietly. “Start a new life.”

     Caan laughed quietly, not the manic giggle from earlier. “No. The time of the Daleks is over, Doctor. I must end with it.” At the Doctor's expression of guilt, Caan cut in sharply, “This is not a bad thing. All things must end. At least I was able to do one good thing before it was over.”

     The Doctor swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

**SCENEBREAK**

     In the end, they were able to use the Crucible to send the 27 planets back to their place and time in the universe. Once the last planet was home again, they used the Warp Star to detonate the ship, beaming themselves out with the Vortex Manipulator before it went off. The ship exploded, taking the last of the Daleks with it in its destruction. They beamed back to Earth, in front of Baker Street, where it had all began.

     It was late noon again, the sky bright and blue, without a planet in view. Baker Street was there, a little worse for wear because of blasts from the Dalek ships, but still standing strong. And something else was there too.

     Rose broke out into a grin, racing towards the blue box. The TARDIS, her home, was back again. For the first time in two years, she stepped into the box.

     The console room was just how she remembered it. The same smell, the same comforting light, the same low _whirring_ of the engine. There was a low _hum_ of pleasure, as though the ship was welcoming her back. Rose felt something catch in her throat. She put a hand on the doorframe, whispering, “I missed you too, girl.”

     Molly stepped past her into the ship, taking in a deep breath. “Oh, it's good to see this again,” she said. She glanced at Rose, as though guessing how the blonde woman felt.

     One by one the companions filed into the ship, murmuring with joy at having won and being alive. Rose had never seen the TARDIS so crowded before. So many people, beloved friends, family, the people who had saved the universe together and would always carry that memory with them. There was a feeling of contentment in Rose unrivaled by anything she'd felt before.

     A few moments later, the Doctor was at her side, smiling, soft, with a hint of sadness. “There's a few more things I have left to do,” he murmured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end of the last episode, folks. The rest will be covered by a final interlude. All the loose ends will be tied up, and our characters will make their decisions on where to go next.
> 
> Stay tuned, folks.


	75. Interlude Six: Hooper and Smith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Children of Time say their goodbyes, and some decisions are made.

     The Doctor dropped off Sarah Jane at her home first, as she was anxious to see her son. To his surprise, Mickey slipped out to join her. “Oi, where are you going?” he asked.

     Mickey turned back to him with a sad smile. “Well, I'm not stupid. I can work out what happens next.” The Doctor glanced away. He wished he could be as sure. “And hey, I had a good time in that parallel world, but my gran passed away. Nice and peaceful. She spent her last years living in a mansion. There's nothing there for me now, certainly not Rose.”

     The Doctor nodded. It was good to see the trembling wimp had matured into someone who knew what he wanted. “What will you do?” he asked curiously.

     He shrugged with a grin. “Anything. Brand new life. Just you watch.” He smiled. “See you, boss.” They bumped fists, and then Mickey Smith, defender of the Earth, turned and walked away. The Doctor smiled after him. He'd started out despising the weak human who somehow had Rose's heart, but they ended as friends and fellow survivors. He hoped this wasn't the last he saw of Mickey Smith.

     Jack opted to stay a while and see some of the others off. The Doctor knew where he had to go next, but something in his hearts ached with fear with what choice lay ahead.

     He landed the TARDIS somberly, the ship barely shaking as she landed. Rose looked at him curiously. “Where are we?” He didn't answer, just nodding to the door.

     Intrigued, Rose went to open the door, only stopping dead in shock at what she saw. The others made their way out, Rose eventually joining them, even though every step onto that wretched beach obviously caused her pain.

     Jackie let out a hiss of disgust as they walked onto the beach. “Oh, fat lot of good this is. Back of beyond. Bloody Norway?” She turned to Rose. “I'm going to have to phone your father. He's on the nursery run.” The Doctor was walking beside her, not looking at Rose. Jackie looked at him. “I was pregnant, do you remember? Had a baby boy.”

     “Oh, brilliant,” he said, trying to sound cheerful. “What did you call him?”

     “Doctor.”

     He blinked. “Really?”

     Jackie rolled her eyes. “No, you plum. He's called Tony.” That actually managed to get a real smile out of the Doctor.

     It didn't last long. “Wait, this is the parallel universe. Bad Wolf Bay.”

     The Doctor nodded. “Yeah.”

     “Why are we here?” There was a tremor of fear in her voice.

     The Time Lord nodded to Jackie. “Well, I figured she'd want to see her son and husband again.” He closed his eyes. “And to offer you a choice.”

     “Choice?” she almost laughed. “What choice?” All the other companions were dead silent. They knew this wasn't a moment for them to intrude on.

     The Doctor sighed, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. “The walls of reality are closing again,” he said gently. “Once it's over, you'll never be able to jump between parallels again. If you come with me, you'll never see your mum and family again. It's up to you.”

     Rose glanced back at Jackie. There was pain in her expression, but when she turned back to the Doctor, there was no remorse or hesitation to be seen. “I made my choice a long time ago, Doctor,” she told him gently. “I spent two years looking for you because that's where I want to be. If you'll have me.”

     “Of course!” the Doctor said a little too quickly. He glanced nervously at Jackie, but Rose's mum didn't seen angry at all. There was some sadness in her eyes, but she was smiling for her daughter. She must've known all along what Rose's choice would be.

     Rose hesitated. “Doctor, I have to ask you something.” The Doctor knew which question was coming next, but he nodded anyway. “The last time we were here, on the worst day of my life, I asked you a question.” She paused, looking into his eyes with an unwavering gaze. “You didn't get to finish. What were you going to say?”

     The Doctor gulped. There was still that little part of his brain that wanted to hold back. But he'd had three years to miss Rose, and to think about what they could have had. Yes, she was human. Yes, she would be lost to him one day. But he'd spent long enough without her to know that he'd rather have a lifetime with her at his side and lose her than, than to push her away again. She was staring at him, his beautiful Rose, waiting for an answer he was finally ready to give. He took a step towards her; she didn't move away, just watching as he approached. “I was going to say, Rose Tyler,” he said softly, “that I have loved you since the moment I took your hand in that shop.” There was so much warmth and relief and love in her eyes. He was standing right in front of her nose. The love beating in his hearts threatened to overwhelm him. He reached out to her, brushing some strands of hair from her face. His hand cupped her chin, and she was crying, and so was he.

     The kiss started out gentle, soft and hesitant. But there was four years of waiting and pining and longing built up, and the kiss grew in passion. Her arms were around his neck, he was holding her waist, and she was kissing him, and his hearts were ready to burst with happiness. The universe had never felt more right.

**SCENEBREAK**

     Molly smiled fondly on the scene in front of her. The Doctor was her best friend, and she knew how much the loss of Rose Tyler had hurt him. Now that she knew Rose herself, and how compassionate and kind and brave she was, she couldn't be happier for the couple. It was as it was meant to be. Rose Tyler and the Doctor, together.

     While the Doctor and Rose had their reunion, however, she and the others had been talking. Once the Doctor's attention was no longer so distracted, and Rose had gone off to say goodbye to her mum, Molly, Donna, and Greg pulled the Doctor aside.

     He looked at them warily. “Yeah?”

     Molly glanced at the others before speaking. “We've been doing some thinking,” she said, “and we think we'd like to be dropped off on Earth.”

     The Doctor's eyes widened in surprise, before being lit by sadness. “Oh. Um, sure, if that's what you want.”

     “Not forever, you tosser,” Donna said with exasperation. The Doctor was evidently confused.

     Molly grinned. “We're really happy for you and Rose, and we figure you two might want some time to yourself, after everything. So we're going to stay on Earth for three months. You and Rose can have the TARDIS to yourselves. After the three months is up, though, we'd like to come back.”

     “And if you don't pick us up on time, we'll hunt you down ourselves,” Donna threatened.

     The Doctor smiled, and there was a lightness to it that Molly hadn't seen in a long time. “I wouldn't dream of it,” he promised. “So, three months on Earth. What will you do?”

     “Actually, we were talking to Jack, and he's going to let us work at Torchwood for a bit,” Greg explained. “None of us really have much of a job on Earth anymore. Nor places to stay, for that matter.”

     “Apparently, Sherlock's been paying the cost of my flat while I've been traveling,” Molly said. “Nice as that is, though. I think I'll sell it once I get back. I don't really need it anymore. I've already got a home.” She glanced at the TARDIS, feeling a rush of warmth.

     “Sherlock and John think Mrs. Hudson would be okay with us renting out 221C in Baker Street,” Lestrade explained. “It's large enough for the three of us, and we'll be close to John and Sherlock, so we can get to work together and such.”

     The Doctor looked between the three of them. “Look at you lot,” he said fondly. “Making plans and ready to save the world again. I'm so grateful, to all of you. Thank you for traveling with me. And for everything you've done.”

     Molly reached forward and hugged the Time Lord, grinning into his shoulder. “Thank you, Doctor,” she said quietly. They stayed like that for several moments, then pulled back.

     The Doctor said his goodbyes to Donna and Greg, then went off to tell Rose what was going on. Molly turned to Greg, feeling lighter than she had in years. She reached out her hand, and he took it. As the Doctor headed back to the TARDIS, knowing fully well why, Molly followed him, Greg at her side. She glanced up at him with a warm smile, and said, “Let's see what Torchwood needs help with.”

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. This is it. This is really the end this time.
> 
> Well, sort of. I will be posting a brief alternate ending in a few hours/minutes (not as a chapter to this story, but as a separate story, so keep an eye on my account,) and I may or may not write a spin-off in which Sherlock and John are at Torchwood, but other than that distant possible future, this is it. This is the end of The Soldier Who Stayed and The Woman Who Counted, my journey with Molly Hooper, which has taken a year and a half to complete. I'm a little in shock right now, and kind of sad. Actually, pretty sad.
> 
> Thank you. All of you, thank you so much for reading and reviewing and caring about my story. I can't thank you enough. You guys pushed me to keep this story going even when I got lazy and lost motivation. You are all so awesome. I hope this is the ending you were hoping for.
> 
> So yay, Donna doesn't get her memory wiped, Rose gets to stay with the Doctor forever (yes forever, in my version, she's been altered by the whole Bad Wolf experience and has a lifespan just as long as the Doctor's), and Molly and co. are coming back after a brief holiday on Earth. And while Molly, Donna, and Greg have human lifespans and won't be able to stay with the Doctor and Rose forever, they'll stay as long as they can, and they'll live full, happy lives on the TARDIS. Perhaps there will even be some Hoopstrade and Rose/Doctor babies for Donna to babysit...? ;)
> 
> Yes, it's a sappy, corny, perhaps even somewhat unrealistic ending. I don't bloody care. I also don't particularly care if you think Rose and the Doctor don't belong together. They're my OTP to end all OTPs, so in my version of things, they get their happily ever after. Because I said so.
> 
> As for the alternate ending, I'll probably have that up briefly.
> 
> Now, to talk about my next project, which I've mentioned a couple times. I'm pleased to announce that my next project is a rewrite of the Moffat seasons of Doctor Who. I think I've made it pretty clear that I'm not exactly the biggest fan of Moffat. The point of my rewrite will not be to change things to how I wish they were. In that case, Rose would stay with the Doctor forever, Donna would still be there, and everyone would be happy. That's not the point of my rewrite. The point of it is to take the ideas that Moffat came up with and show how they could have been written in a more... constructive way, let's say. Taking out the sexism, filling in the plot-holes, altogether getting rid of the more nonsensical and problematic bits. I'll try to stay close to the main idea while only changing how it's presented and portrayed, but I might change some plots entirely due to either their nature or the way the story before it progressed. I may enlist the advice of other fanfic writers and Whovians, as I really want to do this right. And in all likelihood, by the time I reach the 50th Anniversary, I will try to recruit a Classic Who fan to help me write it, as I would like my version of that episode to be a proper tribute to past Doctors, and I don't have enough Classic Who knowledge to do that justice. So yeah, that's basically what my next project is. I haven't settled on a name yet, so suggestions are welcome. If that sounds like something you'd like to read, keep an eye out for that in the coming months. If you're a fan of Moffat's and rather wouldn't, that's fine too. Just warning you ahead of time what it'll be like.
> 
> Now, I probably won't start that project for a while, for two reasons. One, I'm working on an original project, and now that TSWS is done, I'd like to focus on that for a while. Two, I need some time to plan just how I'm going to tackle this. Again, suggestions are welcome.
> 
> That's it, guys. Keep an eye out for the alternate ending and my future project, and thank you all again. Until then, _allons-y!_


End file.
